


The Witch's Vindication

by Ilya_Boltagon, squipy_witch



Series: Maximoff Chronicles [2]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Anger Management, Angst, Bigotry & Prejudice, Brainwashing, Childhood Trauma, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Family Reunions, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Relationship Issues, Repressed Memories, Romani, Wundagore, anger issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 50,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23212645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilya_Boltagon/pseuds/Ilya_Boltagon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/squipy_witch/pseuds/squipy_witch
Summary: Picking up where X Men Evolution Season Four left off, old memories of Wanda Maximoff's past begin to resurface, leading to shocking revelations and the discovery that nothing in her life was as she thought. Featuring various characters from X Men Evolution and several comic book characters, adapted for this story.
Relationships: Agatha Harkness & Wanda Maximoff, Django Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Django Maximoff/Marya Maximoff, Erik Lehnsherr & Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Charles Xavier, Wanda Maximoff/Simon Williams, Warren Worthington III & Simon Williams
Series: Maximoff Chronicles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919743
Comments: 116
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

Simon Williams was scowling as he parked his car on the grass, then slammed the door as he got out, glowering through his sunglasses at the admittedly impressive Xavier Institute. The building was as large as loads of the best homes in Hollywood, where he'd lived, on and off, for the past few years, though this place wasn't as modern, and the weather here was a lot colder than California. He shivered in his t-shirt, already missing California's ever-present sun, wishing he'd thought to bring a jacket when he finally gave in to Warren Worthington's nagging and came to check this place out.

“School for mutants indeed,” he muttered, pressing the fob on his car keys to open the trunk and grabbing his bags, before re-locking his convertible and heading towards the front door. Just because he was a mutant, a fact that had brought his acting career to a screeching halt, because he was one of the damned unlucky ones who couldn't hide it, didn't mean he _wanted_ to embrace that fact, or the 'mutant' lifestyle, whatever that meant.

Warren had meant well, Simon knew that. He'd known the guy, in casual terms, since they were both kids, expected to keep each other company at the high society parties that their respective parents dragged them to. They'd gotten on OK, even though Warren was a couple years older than him, calling and emailing each other, mostly to moan about how boring their private schools were, and how annoying their parents could be. But when Simon's acting career had taken off, and Warren became more interested in taking over his dad's business at Worthington Industries, they had slowly lost touch.

When Simon's powers had manifested- incredible strength, durability and stamina, with the unfortunate side effect of glowing purple eyes, it had taken no time for the press to get wind of his being a mutant. It had all happened mere months after the mess with that Apocalypse... thing. The fallout had been hell. His career had gone down in flames, his parents refused to take his calls, his Hollywood friends had dropped him like a hot potato, his agent had refused to have anything more to do with him, so no roles were even offered to him (except some Discovery Channel wannabe who only wanted to research a mutant) but Warren, to Simon's surprise, had reached out to him again.

Learning that Warren too was a mutant had been a shock, though he'd covered it with quips about his sort-of friend's blond hair, blue eyes and white feathered wings showing his angelic nature.

Three months of hinting and outright cajoling later, Warren had persuaded Simon to come and check out this 'Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters' where he apparently now worked as an instructor, insisting it would be good for Simon to be around other mutants, instead of wallowing alone in self pity all day every day.

Simon hotly maintained that was _not_ what he had been doing, but still... it wasn't as if he had anything else to do with his life right now, was it?

The door opened before Simon could knock, revealing a smiling Warren, wings fully outstretched. He'd never admit it aloud, but he was pleased to see at least one familiar face. Next to Warren sat an older man in a wheelchair. Bald, with a kindly look on his face and knowing eyes, he seemed to be looking through Simon as much as at him, despite his smile.

Simon pulled on his best fake smile, the one that had worked wonders at getting him what he wanted in Hollywood. He'd agreed to give this place a try. He figured a week would do it, then he could make his excuses and get out of this freak show before he did even _more_ harm to his rep with the press. “Professor Xavier, I assume?” He offered his hand for shaking. “I'm Simon Williams.”

As Xavier returned his friendly greeting and shook his hand, Simon nodded at Warren. “Good to see you.”

“You too.” Warren took one of Simon's bags. “Come in. I know you're not crazy about being here, but let the Prof show you around, see what it's like. I really do think this place will be good for you.” He turned to Xavier then, looking almost apologetic. “Sorry, Professor, I didn't mean to talk like you weren't here.”

Xavier waved a hand. “It's fine, Warren. It's probably for the best if you show our newest arrival around first. You can bring him to my study when you're ready, to go over the school rules and regulations.” His eyes went vague for a moment, as if he were listening to something far away, before snapping back to the present. “For now, I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me. A... friend is on her way to ask for assistance with something.” With that cryptic statement, Xavier rolled away, leaving Simon and Warren alone.

Simon stared after him for a minute, before turning to Warren. “What was _that_ about?” He wouldn't admit it, but Xavier unnerved him a bit.

Warren shrugged, the movement making his wings rustle and sending a white feather spiralling lazily to the floor. “Who knows? The professor's a telepath. Probably someone called out to him for something, and he just wants to sound mysterious. Come on, I'll show you to your room so we can ditch your bags, then I'll give you the tour, and introduce you to some of the other students.”

Simon followed him without arguing, though he was wary now. A telepath? Like, he could read minds? What were the odds that Xavier already knew _exactly_ how Simon felt about being here: i.e. that he didn't belong among people who were _proud_ to be mutants, when he wished with all his might he wasn't: being a mutant had ruined his whole life and his future!

Still, if Xavier knew the truth, maybe Simon wouldn't even have to stick around here for the week he'd promised Warren. He could be honest with Xavier, praise his school, but say it didn't suit him, and leave in a day or two.

 _And go back to... what?_ His conscience mocked. _Sitting in another apartment with nothing to do but watch your old movies and shop online for stuff you don't want or need?_

Silencing his inner voice, he followed Warren up a flight of stairs in silence, his mood now sullen. He barely took in his surroundings, or what Warren was telling him. He didn't intend to be here long, so there was no point in paying attention.

* * *

Wanda Maximoff found herself biting her nails, almost drawing blood, as she paced back and forth outside the gates of Xavier's school. She shouldn't be here, she knew that. Xavier and her father might have a vague truce for now, but she still shouldn't be coming to him with her problems. The dull ache in her head throbbed, and she massaged the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, trying to ease the pain. Closing her eyes for a minute, she took a deep breath. And, yet again, a memory flashed across her mind, unbidden:

_A firework went off almost directly in front of her, making her jump. Father's hand rested on her shoulder, and she turned to glance at him. He was smiling, wearing a simple button-down shirt, jacket slung over one shoulder. He'd left work early specially, so he could come with her to this Fourth of July display. (Where was Pietro? Why hadn't he come?)_

Wanda's frown deepened as another image overlaid the one she remembered:

 _Father was in his uniform as Magneto, standing on a rooftop of some kind. The humans' Sentinel robot hovered before him, looming. Wanda stood facing him, a look of pure rage on her face, her hands glowing cobalt-blue with her powers, as she held Magneto frozen in place, leaving him helpless before the Sentinel, taking no notice of his pleading with her to release him_.

Her eyes shot open, and she shook her head violently, trying to banish the disturbing images. Why was she seeing something like that? As if she'd ever have tried to hurt Father! When the Sentinel had attacked, she was.... she had been...

Her hands trembled. Why couldn't she _remember_ where she had been that day? Even attempting to do so made pain sear through her skull!

She'd tried to talk to Pietro about her memories behaving weirdly, and the nightmares she'd been having, of a bleak hospital, a tiny metal cell, tall, faceless figures in hospital scrubs, a little girl crying for help and sobbing while a storm raged overhead, but he'd brushed it off as unimportant, telling her it meant nothing. Since then, he had been busy a lot, never in the Brotherhood house when she was. Almost as if he was avoiding her, and she didn't feel comfortable enough with the other Brotherhood boys to try and speak to them. She'd entertained the idea of going to speak to Father, but even if she'd had a definite way to contact him, something in her kept telling her it wasn't safe, that she couldn't trust him. It was nonsense, and yet more proof that something was wrong with her mind. Which was what had led her here. Xavier might not be an ally, exactly, but if anyone could work out what was misfiring in her brain, making her see things that couldn't be true, it would be him.

_'You're right, Wanda.'_

She jumped at hearing Xavier's voice in her head, but nodded. (Why did his voice sound _familiar_? She'd only ever seen him once or twice in her life!)

His 'tone', when he spoke again, sounded almost troubled. Of course, if he was in her mind, he would be able to see what was happening, how her childhood memories were warping into something nightmarish. It was no wonder he'd sound concerned, if he could see that, was it?

 _'Come inside, Wanda. I think you and I have a great deal to discuss._ '

The school gates slowly opened and Wanda strode into the grounds, walking fast before she could talk herself out of this.

A chill ran down her spine as she walked, though. Like someone had walked over her grave.

 _Ask no questions, hear no lies_. The old wives' tale sprang into her mind from nowhere, but she squared her shoulders and kept walking, entering the Institute and following Xavier's telepathic directions to his office. Every beat of her heart felt like a toll of doom, but she couldn't keep on having these 'jigsaw memories' and nightmares. She just wanted her life to go back to the normal happy existence she'd always known, and if Xavier's help was the only way to make that happen, so be it. Let Father be angry if he found out, she wasn't going to ignore her problems and let them destroy their family. Father and Pietro deserved better than that from her.

She took a shaky breath before pushing open the door to Xavier's office without bothering to knock. He was staring straight at her, a serious look on his face, but his eyes shone with pity- and anger.

She froze, her hands shaking again, as he wheeled towards her, silent. Suddenly, this didn't seem like such a smart idea. He looked so grim- what if there was something really wrong with her, and he couldn't help?

“I _can_ help you, Wanda.” He spoke aloud now. “You've been seriously wronged, abused, but I can set it right, if you'll trust me.” His gaze was steady. “But if I do this, I want your word that you will continue to let me help you, afterwards. That you'll stay here at the school and train. So I do not let you down this time.”

This was the point of no return, she knew it. Something about this was eerily familiar- facing Xavier, having him offer to help her- had something like this happened before? Was this something else she'd somehow forgotten? But to _stay_ here, leave the Brotherhood where her twin was, where Father wanted her to be.. And what did Xavier mean 'so I do not let you down this time'? Nothing was making sense, and her head felt like it was being crushed in a vice as she tried and tried to remember something, _anything_ about being in a similar situation to this before, with no luck. It was all a blur.

“Wanda? I want you to consent. I won't do this until you've agreed with my terms.”

Clenching her fists, she stared him straight in the eyes, and nodded firmly. “Yes. If you help me, I'll stay.” After all, she reasoned, she hadn't said how long she would stay _for_. She sat down in a chair, bringing her closer to his level, holding his gaze and waiting, her whole body tense, like she was bracing for a drop on a roller coaster.

Xavier's eyes closed, one hand on his temple, the other outstretched towards her. There was a vague sensation of falling, and Wanda let her own eyes flutter closed. Then, she was drifting back through the years, to when she'd been seven years old and her powers had first begun to spiral out of control...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short explanation just in case my interpretation of Simon Williams offends any die-hard fans of the Avengers comics: In Marvel Comics, Simon Williams aka Wonder Man started out as a villain or antihero, who gained his powers by accident, and later joined the Avengers. Only after that did he develop an interest in acting. I made him a mutant because it fits better in the X Men Evolution universe, and having him being a kid/teen actor that had to give it up due to his mutation seemed like an interesting character arc for him. His friendship with Warren Worthington is something I made up, though it's feasible since their fathers are both rich businessmen. Simon's relationship with Wanda Maximoff is canon in the comics, and it's something I look forward to exploring in the X Men Evolution universe, when Wanda's past and character are vastly different to the comics' interpretations.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, I try and articulate Charles' psychological evaluations of Wanda, based on her behavior and what little he currently knows of her early childhood. I am not a psychiatrist, or a therapist of any kind, so all my ideas are guesswork, pretty much. Hope it doesn't annoy/offend anyone!
> 
> Also, 'Magnus' is the name Charles used for Erik/Magneto in X-Men Evolution. Not sure where that alias came from, but it's canon, so I'm using it.

Charles' heart was heavy as he opened the 'floodgates' that had held back Wanda's true memories, then mentally took a step back, knowing he would need his wits about him when she had clawed her way back to reality, against the tide of anger and pain he had once again set loose in her mind.

Part of him wondered if it hadn't been better for her past to have remained forgotten, but he disregarded that. Past sins and failures could not be wiped away as easily as washing dirt from one's hands, no matter what Magnus seemed to think. What he had arranged to have done to his own daughter was barbaric: unable to admit or accept his own failings where Wanda was concerned, he had made them 'disappear', and Charles knew his old friend well enough to know that he was trying to erase his own guilt for abandoning his only daughter as much as anything else.

Wanda sat rigidly in the chair, her white-knuckled fists clutching the wooden arms. He could hear her teeth grinding, and her eyes were open, but distant, lost in whatever memories she was reliving, not focusing on the here and now. A thin stream of blood trickled from her nose, and he leaned forward anxiously- this was common with extreme neurological or psychic upheaval, but if it worsened...

To his relief, Wanda's eyes fluttered, then opened fully, lucidity returning. He folded his hands and waited, keeping his gaze steady, knowing this would be difficult. She had promised to stay here, and let him help her (he felt the now-familiar stab of guilt at his failure to get through her anger and pain during the several months he had visited her at the hospital) but that promise had been made before he had helped her recall her true past, not the lies that Magneto had had implanted in her mind. Now, with her memory intact, her reaction could be... unpredictable.

Her pupils were dilated at first, then slowly returned to normal. Her heterochromatic eyes (one brown, one green) narrowed to slits, and her expression hardened. The lights overhead flickered, and the room shook as if an earthquake was about to commence- Wanda's mutant abilities reacting to her volatile emotions.

“Wanda-”

A cobalt-blue glow ignited around her still clenched fists. “He- my so-called father- manipulated me. _Violated_ me. And the others... Pietro, Lance, Toad, Fred... they all _lied_. They knew it had happened, that he'd had my head messed with, and they did NOTHING.” Her words were heavy with malice. Charles could almost _feel_ ozone crackling in the air as her powers simmered beneath her skin, and thought fast. He needed to defuse this, and quickly. Before his school was subjected to property damage. Again.

“I know. It was wrong, and a terrible thing for you to have to go through, especially after everything else you have already endured. But letting your anger get the better of you at the moment will not solve anything. You must know that.” He kept his tone as calm as possible, while surreptitiously sending out a telepathic message, alerting Ororo, Logan, Scott and Jean that they might have a problem, asking them to make sure they were conveniently nearby, to help if needed. He didn't want to begin Wanda's stay here by subduing her with force, but nor would he allow her to endanger herself or anyone else within the school. He considered informing Warren as well, but he was still occupied showing Simon Williams around, and calling him away from that would probably lead to Simon asking questions, the answers of which he didn't need to hear, not yet. Not when he was already so reluctant to even be here at the Institute.

“I suppose you think I should 'be the bigger person' and just let it go?” Wanda sneered at him, and his heart ached.

 _She is so much like her father, for all she claims to hate him, and she cannot see it._ The thought of this powerful young mutant, who had already been through so much in her short life, becoming as callous and hardened to life as Magnus was, chilled Charles to the core. No matter what, he could not allow another version of Magneto, someone devoid of compassion, of love, to be born from the harm done to Wanda by her birth family. He _had_ to find a way to reach her, show her a better way.

He had not been able to persuade Magnus to use his gifts to benefit non-mutants and mutants alike, no matter how he had tried. He wanted desperately to believe that things could be different now, now that he dealt with Magnus' daughter, but what if he was deluding himself, and she could not be saved, any more than her father could?

He shook those thoughts off quickly. He could 'hear' Logan, looming in the hall just outside his study, while Ororo had made her way to one of the balconies, so she could keep an eye on this window from outside. Scott and Jean were lingering in the entrance hall, on standby to run up the stairs to the study if they were needed.

Wanda, meanwhile, was oblivious to his racing thoughts. She'd gotten to her feet, the implied threat of her glowing hands still visible. She held his gaze, face still contorted in rage, but in her eyes, he read a challenge, and a hint of uncertainty. Perhaps she truly didn't know any other way to cope with her problems apart from lashing out like a wounded animal, hurting anyone in the vicinity? He had never wanted to admit that possibility, that she was so emotionally starved that anger was the only outlet she had for her pain and loneliness. Because, if that were so, if she was _that_ emotionally stunted, then helping her to heal would be far more complex, and take far more time, than he had anticipated.

Back in the hospital, when he had first known her, he had assumed the anger was a front, a surface problem, and all he would need to do was work through it until he reached the frightened girl underneath. But if rage truly was the only feeling she was capable of articulating, then...

Then he had misjudged her, badly. And what he had thought was best, leaving her in the hospital and giving her only sessional treatment, had almost certainly made things worse, not better.

Not to mention, it opened up a completely new can of worms, regarding what Wanda's (and Pietro's) life had been like before Magnus had had her locked away, since not being able to understand or voice one's own emotions hinted at a cold, withdrawn environment from an incredibly young age.

What had his old friend _done_ to his children?

Swallowing visibly, not trying to hide the shame he now felt at just how badly he had let this girl down in the past (not to mention his obliviousness until now in not seeing that her mind had been wiped), he met Wanda's eyes, holding his hands up in a peacekeeping gesture.

“I am not going to tell you how you should feel, or what you should or shouldn't do now. How you choose to deal with what has happened to you is your choice. I will however remind you that you promised you would give me another chance to help you, that you would stay here, if I untangled your distorted memories.”

Wanda scowled, knowing he was right- she had promised- but clearly far from happy about it.

“And, apart from that,” Charles continued, his tone more serious now. “As I have freed your memories, and I doubt you will wish to rejoin the Brotherhood-”

A lamp on his desk exploded at the very suggestion. An apologetic look crossed Wanda's face for a split second, and she tugged her hands behind her back, although the mask of fury she wore was back on her face an instant later.

“-Magneto will not be pleased to discover that you now remember the truth.” He continued as though nothing had happened. “For the time being, for your safety, and to make sure he does not attempt to tamper with your mind again,” Which Magnus would if it suited him, Charles knew, without hesitation, “I really do have to insist that you remain here at the Institute for the time being.”

Wanda looked as if she wanted to argue, but eventually, her shoulders slumped and she ducked her head. She didn't agree with him out loud, but he could read defeat in her posture, and stifled a sigh. _If only she could see this as a second chance, a fresh start, not a battle she has lost_.

“If I have to,” she muttered sullenly. “But if you think I'm joining your little team of do-gooders-”

A knock on the door cut her off, and she turned, startled, as Charles called out to Warren to come in.

The winged mutant was smiling as he entered the office, though he did cast a puzzled look Wanda's way, before frowning at the shattered, smoldering remains of the lamp on the desk. Simon, still looking ill at ease, followed Warren into the study. He eyed Wanda curiously, a flicker of interest passing over his face, but she didn't even give him a second glance. Charles could have chuckled at the spike of annoyance he sensed from the young ex-actor at being so disregarded- clearly, he was used to and enjoyed attention.

Charles returned his attention to Warren. “I trust the tour went well?”

Warren nodded, and Charles gave Simon a friendly smile, which was returned with a smile every bit as false as the one Simon had given him earlier. Warren had been right, Charles mused. Young Simon would be difficult to convince to stay, but, like Warren, Charles could see the potential in the young man, despite his shallow attitude and selfishness.

“Good,” He replied to Warren while keeping his focus on Simon, though telepathically, he was keeping an 'eye' on Wanda as well: she now stood in sullen silence, her arms wrapped around herself, avoiding eye contact with anyone and glowering at the carpet as if it had offended her. “While I go through the Institute's rules with Mr Williams, perhaps you could take Wanda here to Ororo, so a room can be found for her?”

Puzzlement was clear in Warren's eyes, but he nodded, opening the door and gesturing for Wanda to precede him through the door. Shooting him a suspicious glance, she did so, leaving without another word to Charles.

Warren slipped out after her, throwing an encouraging smile to Simon, before closing the door behind him.

Simon's gaze followed Wanda until she was out of sight, and again Charles hid a smile. It seemed there was something- or rather, _someone_ here that Simon liked the look of! Once they were alone, though, the young man's expression changed, and he reluctantly let himself fall into the chair that Wanda had occupied just a few minutes ago. His thoughts now were long-suffering, and it was clear he viewed being here as some kind of chore or punishment, something to endure, not embrace.

Charles ignored his potential new student's attitude, smiling congenially and cheerfully explaining the rules and policies of the Institute. He detected flickers of interest in some of the details, but Simon was a skilled actor- his face showed nothing.

In the end, though, he did agree to two weeks here, 'just to give it a try'.

Logan then materialized to show Simon to his new room. Left alone once more, Charles steepled his hands, deep in thought.

Two new students, with vastly different needs: Wanda, who needed to heal from the scars on her psyche caused by her past, and to learn how to even have a normal, emotionally healthy life, something that he now doubted she had ever had before. (Charles would also be foolish to assume there would not be fallout from Magneto and the Brotherhood for Wanda's defection, that too would need to be dealt with when it happened.)

And Simon, who had been torn from a shallow, impermanent glittering life in Hollywood by the manifestation of his mutant powers, who would have to grow up quickly and learn to see himself- and others- more clearly, to understand how, in the scheme of things, compared to a lot of the other students here, just how fortunate he had been in his life up until now.

Both of them would have to adjust to very different lives here at the Institute, and of course the day-to-day activities of the school would carry on as normally as they could, despite the two unusual new arrivals. Charles' lips quirked in a smile. If nothing else, life would certainly be interesting for the next few weeks.


	3. Chapter 3

Wanda could feel Storm's- or Ororo's, as the woman had requested Wanda call her- eyes on her as she looked around the room that was evidently going to be hers now. She made a point of keeping a scowl on her face and refused to make eye contact, tuning out whatever Storm was saying, her mind still reeling from what she'd only just remembered, struggling to clamp down on the roaring maelstrom that was her powers. Fueled by her anger, they still wanted to surge, lash out. But Storm wasn't to blame for the brainwashing and lies Wanda had endured. No one at Xavier's was. The next time she set eyes on her twin brother and the rest of the Brotherhood, her so-called friends, though...

“Wanda?” Storm's voice was gentle.

She blinked, forcing herself to pay attention. “What?” It came out ruder than she'd intended, but what did it matter, really? Storm knew who Wanda was, she shouldn't expect manners from her, especially not right now. Who knew what Xavier had told her, telepathically, about this new situation? Wanda might be stuck here for the time being, but she had no interest in playing nice, or receiving sympathy or pity, thank you very much!

“I asked if you were happy with this room, or if you would prefer another. This one is fairly close to the rooms of our younger students...”

“It's fine.” Wanda shrugged, not sure why Storm thought where the room was would matter. The room itself _was_ incredible, she supposed, if you cared about stuff like that. It was a step up from the room she'd had in the boarding house, anyway.

“Alright. Well, anyway, there is plenty of room for your belongings, if-” Storm paused, looking a little awkward. “Oh. I imagine you didn't bring anything with you, since-”

“Since I didn't come here knowing I'd end up staying?” Wanda said bitterly. “I'll manage.” Somehow. Even though all she had with her were the clothes on her back- all her stuff was back at the boarding house, and right now, she never wanted to set foot there, or see any of the lying jerks who lived there, again.

The lights flickered ominously overhead, her powers yanking at her control at just the _thought_ of Pietro and her other former team-mates. Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced the wave of energy back down.

Storm placed a hand on her shoulder, as if she weren't at all afraid of being hurt by Wanda's powers- and who knew, working in a place like Xavier's, maybe she was used to it. Wanda, however, stepped back, uncomfortable with the physical contact from a near stranger.

“You can't stay here with no belongings, Wanda.” Storm sounded concerned, her tone kinder than anything Wanda had heard in... a long time. “If you'd like, I can take you to the mall and you can buy some things...”

Wanda set her jaw, scowling at the carpet. “I don't have any money.” What she had had access to, back at the boarding house, came from her so-called father, and she'd rather have nothing than accept anything of his from now on.

Storm almost chuckled, and Wanda's response was a searing glare. That look terrified most people, but Storm didn't even blink.

“The professor has funds to provide for his students. Money really isn't an issue, I promise.”

“That's lovely, but I'm not one of his _students_.” Exactly what she _was_ , Wanda had no idea. “And I don't want charity.” Pride might be the only thing she had left now that the life she thought she'd had here in Bayville with the Brotherhood had been revealed as based on lies, and she wasn't about to let go of it any time soon.

Storm didn't react at all to her attitude, to Wanda's surprise. “Well, the other option is I have one of the older students- Kurt, most likely- take you to the boarding house to collect your things- _if_ you think you can control yourself while there, should you see any of the Brotherhood.”

Wanda's fists clenched and the lights flickered once again. Hairline cracks appeared in the ceiling as well, as she struggled to make a decision: accept charity from Xavier, which would humiliate her, or go back to the boarding house for her own stuff, but without letting the _rats_ who lived there know exactly how she felt about their going along with Magneto's brainwashing of her for over a year... why did Storm care what happened to the Brotherhood boys anyway?!

Storm arched a brow, clearly waiting for an answer. Wanda's scowl deepened, and she refused to look at the older woman as she spoke. “I'd like my own things.” The words came out through gritted teeth. “I won't say anything to any of the Brotherhood if I see them.”

Storm nodded as if satisfied with that, slipping from the room without further argument. “I will fetch Kurt for you.”

Left alone, Wanda allowed herself a tiny smile. She'd agreed not to speak to any of the Brotherhood. She hadn't said a thing about not using her hex blasts on them.

Storm and Nightcrawler were there within minutes, along with that particular smell of brimstone that always seemed to cling to the teleporter. There was curiosity in his eyes, but he didn't ask Wanda any questions, to her relief- she didn't want to go into the whole mess that had been her life, not yet. Not ever, if she could help it.

He only offered her his arm, smiling cheerfully. “Escort services at your disposal, Fräulein.”

Wanda blinked at his over-the-top attitude, but hesitantly took his arm, as Storm's lips twitched in suppressed amusement.

Nightcrawler actually _saluted_ Storm, grinning cheekily, before a cloud of smoke enveloped him and Wanda. The 'Pfft' sound of his powers had barely faded before they found themselves standing outside the aged boarding house. Nightcrawler turned to her apologetically.

“I don't know vhich room is yours, Vanda, so you'll have to tell me vhere to go from here.”

“That room.” She pointed at the window, just visible at the very top of the house.

Another grin split his face- it was as if he _liked_ sneaking into the home of his enemies, for some reason.

Her enemies too, now. Wanda stared at the floor. Living a lie or not, she _had_ kind of liked being close to her brother, and to Lance. Fred and Toad... the less said about living with _them_ , the better.

“All aboard zhe secret possessions retrieval Vagner express!” Nightcrawler was offering his arm to her again, sounding like this was the most fun he could imagine.

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed his sweater sleeve, and in seconds, they were inside her room.

“Wanda?! Where have you been?”

Lance's startled voice, coming from the doorway, had both her and Nightcrawler whirling round, Wanda's hands flying up defensively, already glowing with the light of her powers. “Get out of here, Alvers.” She forced the words out through clenched teeth, stepping forward slightly, distracting him from Kurt.

He actually looked confused- and hurt. Wanda continued to skewer him with her gaze, refusing to feel any shred of pity for him. Not after he'd gone along with the lies Magneto had set up as well.

“W-what did I do?” But the fact that he refused to meet her gaze, added to his lack of surprise at seeing one of the X-Men with her, told her that he already knew what this was about.

“You tell me.” She all but hissed at him. “Maybe there's something all of you forgot to mention to me for the past year, like, say, how Magneto _re-wrote my entire past to suit him_?!”

Lance cringed, almost shrinking before her. He didn't even try to defend himself. “You're leaving, aren't you.” His voice was flat, and he was clearly stating a fact, not asking a question.

She didn't reply, and he merely nodded, turning to leave. Just before he headed back downstairs, he paused. “Take care of yourself, Wanda. And for what it's worth... I'm sorry.”

He disappeared from view, his shoulders slumped. Wanda stood frozen for a second. _Sorry?_ Did he think that would help, somehow? But, he hadn't even tried to talk her into staying...

Brushing the confusing thoughts aside for now- she could figure that out later- she grabbed a backpack and a duffel bag and began shoveling her clothing into them. Nightcrawler was standing near the doorway, his gaze intent on the hall and the stairs, like he was keeping lookout or something. Honestly, Wanda didn't care. Adding her toiletries, her makeup collection, and all of her favorite books to the bags, she fastened them both, then looked expectantly at Nightcrawler, who was listening raptly to something downstairs.

“Hey!” She whisper-yelled. “Let's go.” She didn't really want to see any of the other boys right now- facing Lance had been unsettling enough.

Nightcrawler 'ported back to her side, a look of faint disgust on his face. “I just saw Toad using his tongue to help himself to filling from Blob's sandvich. And he ate it anyvay, despite zhe slime!”

Wanda shuddered, having seen similar things too often herself. “They're gross, that's all I can say. Now can we get out of here before someone else sees us and I end up doing something _they_ will regret?”

Nightcrawler looked genuinely concerned- probably for good reason- and without further ado, he picked up the duffel bag, leaving her with the backpack, grasped her wrist, and in an instant, they were back on the upper storey of the Xavier Institute.

“Can you find your vay back to your room from here, Vanda? Only, I really should be getting on vith my Physics homevork.”

She took the duffel bag from him, waving him off. “Yeah, sure, go on. And, uh... thanks.”

He winked cheekily and actually saluted her before teleporting away. She wrinkled her nose- that brimstone smell took some getting used to- before heading back to where she _thought_ her room was.

It took only minutes before she was totally turned around- the mansion was huge and it all looked the same! Aggravated, she all but threw the duffel bag on the floor, already feeling the humiliation of having to knock on one of the X-Geeks- uh, X-Men's bedroom doors and ask for help.

“You OK there?”

The unfamiliar male voice had her whirling round, her heart pounding. She relaxed (slightly) when she recognized the dark haired guy with sunglasses that she'd seen when she'd first arrived. He wasn't a student here that she knew- was he another new arrival?

“Do you need a hand?” He prompted, obviously waiting for an answer, a confident smile on his face.

She turned away. “I'm fine. Just... exploring a bit.” No way was she going to admit that she was lost.

“Oh, you're new here as well. Cool.” He looked around. “This place is really something, isn't it?”

“Uh-huh.” She was barely listening, still trying to get her bearings and figure out how to get to her new room.

“Maybe we could take a look around together? I can take one of those bags, if you'd like.” He stepped closer, offering his hand for shaking. “I'm Simon, by the way. Simon Williams.” He almost puffed up as he introduced himself, as if he thought she'd know his name. It was vaguely familiar, but she wasn't sure why, and didn't really care.

“And... you are...?”

She side-eyed him warily. “My name's Wanda.”

“Pretty name. So... want to keep me company, take a look around this place?”

 _No, not really_. But if she went with him, surely they'd find her room sooner or later, and it was better than asking one of the X-Men for _more_ help. “Sure.”

He reached for the duffel bag, but she hoisted it onto her shoulder. “It's fine, I got it.”

“Alright...”

Wanda set off, having picked a direction at random, making this Simon keep up with her. A shiver ran down her spine when she felt his eyes on her, and she slowed so he could walk at her side- it felt safer that way.

“So, when did you join this wondrous school for mutants?” Simon's tone was bright and cheerful, but she could tell, somehow, that he was being sarcastic, though she wasn't sure why.

“Today, same as you. But I'm not really joining, just... staying for a while. It's complicated, and no, I don't wanna talk about it.”

He shrugged. “Fair enough. I'm pretty much in the same boat.”

Silence fell as they walked aimlessly, although he was still smiling as if it was a habit. “So... have you seen any of my movies?”

She stopped, staring at him. “You're an actor?”

He froze, looking astounded. “You mean you haven't heard of me? I'm wounded.”

“I'm sure.” She didn't really care what Simon's profession was, and it wasn't like she'd been able to keep up to date on Hollywood while she was growing up. “You going to stand there looking like a beached fish or are we looking around?”

It took a few seconds, but he followed her. Wanda didn't know if she was pleased about that, or not. She'd never been much for company, really, but she didn't want to be alone either, right now. And getting to know someone new was better than having to socialize with the X-Men, who'd been her enemies only yesterday.

Had it really been less than a day since she'd made the decision to come here? It felt as if years had gone by since she had remembered the truth of her past...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing a lot of these characters, so I hope no-one comes across as OOC. I've never tried typing Kurt's German accent before either, but hopefully I got it right.  
> Comments are welcome and appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be a Brotherhood-centric chapter, but then Lance took over most of it. I hope it's enjoyable anyway.

Lance sat hunched over on the tattered, stained sofa, his head in his hands. He'd been there for hours, brooding over Wanda and the hate-filled words she'd flung at him before leaving the boarding house and the Brotherhood. For good this time, he had no doubt. He'd have done the same in her shoes. _How_ she'd remembered the truth of her past, he had no clue. Nor did he have any idea what he was gonna say to Fred, Todd and Pietro when they noticed Wanda's absence. Pietro especially. The thought made Lance sigh. The speedster had enjoyed having his twin back in his life and on good terms with him, although he rarely showed it to Wanda herself, Lance could see that Pietro had been happier. But, that relationship had been built on a lie: it wasn't fair to Wanda for it to have continued.

“God knows what Magneto will say when he finds out though.” Lance shook his head. Wanda showing up here with Nightcrawler to collect her things was a pretty strong giveaway about where she was now- Xavier's school. Would Magneto want to attack the school, and the X-Men, to get his daughter back once again? That couldn't end well, if it came to that... and what would _Kitty_ say once she knew the truth behind Wanda's 'change of heart', and that Lance had gone along with that kind of violation, not letting anyone know Magneto had had his daughter brainwashed? She'd never forgive Lance for that, never mind being in a relationship with him!

“God knows what Father will say when he finds out what?” A gust of wind almost toppled Lance off the sofa as Pietro's high-pitched, too-fast voice echoed around the room.

Lance grimaced as he picked himself up off the floor and dusted himself off. “Uh...” Now what? Tell the truth, and risk having Pietro rush off and try to steal Wanda back, or worse, run straight to Magneto and make things worse?

“Aww, are you and Kitty-cat dating again? Don't want my father finding out you're still involved with an X-geek?” Pietro was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Don't worry, he and Xavier kind of get along these days, I don't think it'll be that big a deal.”

Lance's shoulders slumped. “That's not it. Wanda...” Remembered the truth and now hates us all? How could he tell Pietro that? Fine, Wanda deserved to know the truth, but...

Pietro had tensed at hearing his twin's name. “Wanda? What? Has something happened?”

“Hey, guys?” Todd hopped into the room, breaking the tension, and sparing Lance from replying. “I knocked on Wanda's door to ask her if she wanted to come get pizza with us, but she's not there. Most of her stuff's gone too. Either of you seen her today?”

Pietro frowned, his eyes narrowing. Lance could only look at the floor. Of course, Pietro noticed.

“Lance? Anything you wanna share with the rest of us?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing. He'd have to tell the truth now, but really, really didn't want to. Inhaling deeply, he met Pietro's eyes, ignoring Todd for the moment: this wasn't about him. “Uh, yeah. I did. About three hours ago.” He paused, then shook his head. _I might as well get it over with_. “She and Nightcrawler 'ported into her room to get her things.”

Todd looked baffled. “Nightcreeper? Why?”

“It seems.... look, guys, I don't know how, but Wanda got her real memories back. She's left the Brotherhood.” Lance sighed. “I don't think she'll be back. She's not happy with us right now.”

Pietro stared at Lance like he was something he had stepped in. “You found her getting her things and didn't stop her from going?”

Lance snorted derisively. “Oh come on, Pietro, how was I gonna do that?! You know none of us are a match for Wanda!”

“So you just let her walk out of here, with Nightcrawler, without even trying to explain our side of the story?” The glare Pietro was giving Lance now made him look eerily like Magneto.

Now Lance was getting mad, and his powers reacted with it, a slight tremor running through the ground. “'Our side of the story'? What side, exactly, Pietro? In case you've forgotten, wiping Wanda's memory of growing up in the asylum was Magneto's idea, and you went and did what he said, like you always do, because you're afraid of him and because he- and you- didn't want to deal with the reality of what you did to Wanda. Just erase it, right, so you don't have to feel guilty anymore! Except I didn't agree to that. Neither did Todd,” he gestured at the amphibian mutant, who now sat on the floor, looking dejected and miserable, “Or Fred.” Who was now in the doorway, scratching his head, looking from Pietro to Lance, as he tried to catch up on what was going on.

Pietro shook his head, his power making the movement a blur. “That's not-”

“You know who else didn't agree to being brainwashed?” Lance was fuming now, and the whole building was shaking as he finally said the words he'd been biting back for months. “Wanda, funnily enough! Maybe she was angry and violent when we first met her, but she didn't make herself that way, it was because of what Magneto did to her as a kid! But it was more convenient for him to not have to face up to it, and you just went along with whatever he said, like you always do.”

Todd had looked up by now. “Lance, man, back off a bit-”

“No! I'm not gonna stand here and be blamed for something that Pietro and Magneto brought on themselves, and I'm certainly not letting _Wanda_ be blamed for it.”

Pietro had paled- with guilt or anger, Lance had no idea. “I wasn't _blaming_ \- I just... Father didn't... you shouldn't have let her leave! Not until we'd talked about it!”

Lance scoffed. “Talked about it? OK, amaze me. What were you going to say to stop her from putting you in the hospital, exactly?”

Pietro opened his mouth, closed it again, and for a split second, it looked like there was genuine sadness on his face. It twisted back into his default arrogant grin an instant later, and he had sped out of the boarding house before anyone could get another word in.

Fred scratched his head. “You think he's gone to bring Wanda home?”

Todd looked up hopefully, his morose expression lightening. “Maybe. I mean, she might listen to him. They _were_ getting along, before...”

Lance sighed heavily. The Wanda he'd seen that morning hadn't been in any mood to listen to explanations, even if Pietro had one, which Lance doubted, and even so, it wasn't likely that Quicksilver would get onto the Institute's grounds undetected, let alone get anywhere near Wanda. But looking at Todd and Fred, who considered the Brotherhood their family, like he did, he couldn't bring himself to state the harsh truth: that he didn't think Wanda would ever forgive them this time. Not now they had joined the ranks of 'family who had hurt and betrayed her.'

She was gone, and he and the other Brotherhood boys would just have to get used to life without her. _Maybe this is just how it'll be for Brotherhood girls,_ he thought bitterly. First Rogue, then Tabitha, now Wanda.... they might join this team, but they'd never stay.


	5. Chapter 5

Wanda's eyes cracked open as a soft tapping noise disturbed her sleep. Grimacing, she rolled over, still half-asleep. “Toad, I've told you a million times, DO NOT come into my room!” She yelled in the direction of her bedroom door.

“Wanda?” The softly spoken female voice confused her and she sat bolt upright.

 _What the hell, this isn't my room! Where am I?!_ Then, the events of yesterday came rushing back and she realized it was Storm's- Ororo's voice she was hearing. Groaning, she rubbed her hands over her face and called out an apology.

“Breakfast will be in 15 minutes.” Was the reply, along with a calm acceptance of Wanda's apology, and Ororo's footsteps receded.

Wanda sighed heavily, her shoulders slumped. Was she expected to get up and join everyone at the Institute for breakfast? Did they all eat at the same time, round a table like she'd seen families do on TV? She wasn't sure if she could cope with that when it wasn't even 7.30AM- scores of kids laughing and talking, all the noise...

“Maybe I'll just stay here until they've all gone to school or whatever.” Wanda tossed back the covers and clambered out of bed. She could always find something to eat in an hour or so, when the place was emptier. At least here, she could be reasonably certain there would _be_ food: that had never been a safe bet in the Brotherhood house, with Fred and Pietro around.

Just like yesterday, the thought of her twin brother and his lies made her powers ignite under her skin, and a tremor rippled across the room. Wanda closed her eyes, willing it back to stillness, and crushing the stab of pain that this latest betrayal had caused. Letting herself get upset over Pietro choosing Magneto over her yet again wouldn't solve anything.

Taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, she gathered up clothes for the day and slipped out of her room, turning right, as she was pretty sure the bathroom was two doors away, and she needed to shower. To her relief, the room was unoccupied and she was able to get ready for the day without interruptions. Having finished that, with nothing else to do, and her stomach now growling, she figured she might as well go and get some food, even if it meant facing the others who lived here. They'd have to get used to her sooner or later, right?

Making her way downstairs, she followed the sound of voices, soon finding herself in a large dining room. Xavier, Ororo, Wolverine, and the rest of the X-geeks- Men, Wanda corrected herself, X-MEN, were seated round a long table, just as she'd pictured, all eating and talking among themselves.

There were 'junior' students here, she knew, Lance had mentioned them- when did they eat? Later? In a separate room? Should she, the newbie, be with them? She kept puzzling over that, as it was a good way of distracting herself from the several sets of eyes focused on her. She struggled not to squirm- she'd always hated being scrutinized like this, it reminded her too much of the doctors and shrinks at the asylum spending hours observing her.

“Are you gonna come sit down, kid, or just stand there all day?” Wolverine's gruff voice jarred her out of her unease, and, out of habit, she shot a glare at him- she wasn't a kid! Nonetheless, she'd heard the challenge in his words, and squared her shoulders, moving into the empty seat besides Rogue- at least it wasn't likely that the other Goth girl would talk her to death, she was one of the quietest at the table.

Nightcrawler, to her surprise, passed her an empty plate, and Jean smiled, directing her to help herself.

No-one else really paid her much attention, although she could see Kitty and a brown-haired boy she didn't recognize shooting her curious looks. She'd expected more suspicion than this, she mused as she helped herself to bacon and eggs. But everyone was just carrying on their earlier conversations, as if a former Brotherhood member joining them meant nothing. OK, Xavier had probably explained to them what was going on yesterday sometime, while she and Simon had explored (and got more and more lost until that Warren guy had shown up to help them), but still... she had expected them to be more wary of her than this!

She puzzled over it while she ate in silence, keeping her eyes on her plate, quietly relieved that no-one really spoke to her, and slipping from the table as soon as she was done. She figured she'd go back to her room- that was what she'd mostly done at the Boarding House, after all: hang out in her room, and come out for food.

Apparently, Wolverine had other ideas. “Where you off to, Scarlet?”

She froze, tensing. “Nowhere.”

“Good. Cos I want you and Hollywood down in the gym for a session, work out just where you're at with fitness. Go get him, will you?”

Hollywood? It took Wanda a few seconds to work out he probably meant Simon, an ex-actor, but why Wolverine had asked her, as if she'd know where Simon was, didn't add up. Also, why did she need to have a fitness test? It wasn't like she'd come here to join the team, and she knew Simon hadn't!

“An excellent idea, Logan.” Xavier smiled, ignoring or not seeing Wanda's glare. “It will keep our two newest arrivals from becoming bored. Wanda, Simon is currently in the library. The gym is two floors down. Use the elevator in the back hall.”

It was clearly a dismissal, with no room for argument, so apparently this gym session was happening whether she wanted it to or not, so she stomped off, not looking back. At least she knew where the library was, from looking around yesterday.

Simon was engrossed on a laptop when she came in, not even looking up as he typed frantically, frowning at the screen. It was the first time she'd seen him without those sunglasses, and to her surprise, his eyes glowed a vivid purple. It was kind of cool actually.

As she watched, he typed one last sentence, all but punching the keyboard, then slamming the laptop shut and throwing himself back in his chair, scowling. His movement knocked the chair off balance, sending him toppling backwards, and, on pure instinct, Wanda threw out a hand, using a hex blast to prevent him from falling. She'd never understood exactly what she did during this kind of thing: did her powers stop him from falling, or put the chair back on solid ground? All that appeared to have happened was the chair wasn't tipping over anymore. Simon scrambled out of it, backing away, eyes wide. He glanced around nervously, until he saw her standing in the doorway, at which point he basically _pulled_ a mask of being cool and collected onto his face.

“Morning, gorgeous.” He gave her a smug grin and a wink.

Her expression must have shown exactly what she thought of that, because his face fell, leaving him looking crestfallen, but more real, somehow. “The chair, just then, did you...?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. Didn't think you'd mind. Unless you wanted to have a close encounter with the floor.”

“No, I... thanks.” The word sounded awkward coming from him, like he wasn't used to saying it and meaning it. “So, you're what, telekinetic?”

“No, not really. I manipulate probabilities, apparently. Change the odds on things, alter the outcome. Sometimes I get the result I want. Other times things just go nuts. Especially when I'm mad.”

Her lip curled at the look on his face. “Yeah, I don't really get it either. It's just what I've been told my powers are.”

Simon shrugged. “More interesting than mine. So far, I'm just super strong, and hard to injure. Plus my eyes glow, as you can see. I can't turn that off, which is why my acting career went down in flames.” His face was twisted with bitterness now.

Wanda rolled her eyes. “So you can't continue living the high life and making millions, boo-hoo. Believe me, there are worse problems to deal with than yours.”

“Such as...?” Simon folded his arms, his eyes narrowed, like he really thought his own problems were the worst in the world.

Wanda was getting mad now. Simon had been OK yesterday, but his woe-is-me attitude was grating on her nerves. “Try being locked up for most of your life, being rescued only to be used as a weapon, then having your mind wiped and being lied to about your entire life for a year!”

Shaking her head, (why had she blurted all that out? It was her problem and her life, no-one else's business!) she turned her back on him so she couldn't see the look of pity she figured would be on his face. “Anyway, Wolverine- uh, I mean Logan, wants us in the gym for a while. Come on.” She stalked off without waiting to see if Simon followed. She didn't care if he did or not, or what he now thought of her.

She'd only be here at Xavier's until she could work out some other way to get by, anyway. There was no point in wasting time making friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are love! Please leave a comment if you liked. 😊


	6. Chapter 6

The world passed by in a blur as Pietro ran. Out of the boarding house, out of Bayville, out of New York... on and on he sped, his thoughts spiralling father than his feet were carrying him.

Wanda knew. She remembered everything. Just when he'd started to think that this new 'normal' was working, it had all gotten screwed up, again. Like everything else in his life tended to, sooner or later.

Lance blamed him- and Father. His words had made that clear enough.

 _But it wasn't our fault! Father only wanted Wanda to be happy, and to stop risking hurting herself!_ The well-worn excuse rang hollow now, though, and Pietro didn't really believe it. If he ever had. He'd lost his twin- again, this time probably for good.

He was almost out of New York State now, heading up into the Adirondack Mountains, putting on an extra burst of speed to carry himself over the range. He wasn't sure where he was going. When he'd left, he'd planned to go to Father, let him know of the change in circumstances with Wanda, but... what would that accomplish? It would almost certainly end whatever truce Father had with Xavier- presuming the truth about Wanda's mind wipe hadn't already done that. Since, according to Lance, it had been Nightcrawler who brought Wanda to collect her stuff, it wasn't hard to figure out she must be at Xavier's, at least for now. Father would blame Pietro for her learning the truth once again. He could imagine Magneto's words even now, how Pietro should have thought up a better explanation for Wanda's nightmares, not led her to seek answers elsewhere...

He'd cleared the Adirondacks now, and his muscles were burning slightly from exertion. Still he kept running, up towards Quebec.

What would Father do, when he learned Wanda had left the Brotherhood and moved into Xavier's? Surely he wouldn't try and have her mind wiped again? Apart from anything else, Xavier would never let it happen again. Lance's words earlier, about Pietro doing whatever his father said, echoed in the speedster's mind, making his eyes burn. That wasn't true, he didn't do _everything_ his father said! Just because it meant a lot to him to try and please Father, it didn't make him the coward Lance had made him sound like... did it?

Halfway through Quebec, his breath now becoming slightly ragged, he slowed a little. Was he going to run right up to the other side of Canada? And if he did, then what? Just keep running forever?

 _Running away from your problems instead of solving them, Pietro?_ The scathing voice in his head sounded like Wanda's, and it jarred him so much that he stopped looking where he was going.

It only took a split second after that for his right foot to snag on a root or something, wrenching his ankle and sending him flying off his feet to land headfirst in a snowdrift.

The snow filled his mouth, and the icy sharp taste was familiar... Unbidden, a memory surfaced: him and Wanda, when they were about three or four, playing outside in a snowy, tree-filled area he didn't even remember ever seeing before. He'd been trying to build a snowman, when Wanda had thrown a heap of powdered snow at his face, resulting in a snow-tossing fight, until Father had walked over and- no. Wait. Pietro, in the present, frowned. The man in the memory wasn't Father, he looked nothing like him. Squinting, he struggled to recall what had happened. The man had shown them how to form snowballs properly, his large, brown hands wrapping round Pietro's tiny mittens, then Wanda's, then he had burst into laughter when both twins had turned on him, pelting him with snowballs. The man's half-hearted attempt at 'fighting back' ended with both Wanda and Pietro trying to bury him in the snow, both giggling uncontrollably as he tickled them.

The memory, if that was what this was, was blurred with age- until now, Pietro had believed that Father had been the one outside with them. But then again, would _Father_ have ever played with them like that as children? He doubted it.

Closing his eyes so he could concentrate more, he struggled to remember the man's appearance. Brown skin, thick black hair (a bit like Wanda's), a beard, a white shirt and dark waistcoat, a necklace of some sort glinting at his throat... a star.... The Star of David! Pietro remembered the Jewish icon, even though he didn't wear one himself and never remembered Father doing so.

Who had the man been, who'd apparently been looking after him and Wanda when they were little kids? Where had Father been? As far as Pietro knew, Father had raised him and Wanda since their mother had died when they were still babies- until he had Wanda locked up in that hospital, of course, when her powers went mad.

But who was that man, who'd treated the young twins like family, joining in their game and spending time with them? And why hadn't Pietro remembered he existed until just now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Pietro pretty much took over this chapter, it was interesting to get a look at his thoughts. Have a guess in the comments if you think you know who the man is in his memory!  
> (Hint: It's someone from the twins' past in Marvel Comics, though I have tweaked his origin a little to fit the Evolution universe: you'll find out why later.)


	7. Chapter 7

Simon was running steadily on the treadmill in the gym, at a faster speed than he'd normally use. A slight sweat glistened on his skin and his black workout vest was clinging to him. Logan was busy weightlifting, so Simon risked a glance over at Wanda, hoping for at least a glance- girls usually liked looking at him a little tousled and sweaty, after all, and he hoped she'd be the same.

Wanda, however, was whaling away on a punching bag like it had personally offended her and she wanted to beat it to death. She wasn't paying the least bit of attention to Simon- she hadn't even looked at him since they'd walked down here and come into the gym.

Her dismissive attitude disgruntled him a bit- he wasn't used to girls ignoring him, and it couldn't be his mutant status that put her off, because she was a mutant too. _Maybe she just likes playing hard to get._ The thought made him grin. That, at least, he knew how to work with. Convincing her to admit she liked him might even be fun.

It wasn't that hard to score a date with a girl like that. Use a little charm, toss in some nice words and he'd have them hanging off his arm for the next month until he moved on. He continued watching her from the corner of his eye as he continued running, feeling a slight burn in his legs. She was definitely attractive despite all the black and red make-up and weird clothes, but he could probably get her something nice so she'd like him more. Flowers were usually a safe bet. _Maybe black roses, since she's Goth, dark stuff is what they're into, right?_ He'd go online and order some later. His grin grew. Maybe he'd send them to her anonymously, to see how she reacted, tease her a bit?

“Hey, Hollywood!” Logan snapped, breaking into Simon's thoughts, making his smile vanish. “If ya can smirk like that, you're not working hard enough. Pick up the pace!”

Scowling, Simon did as the instructor asked, grudgingly.

“And you're not here to flex for girls, so quit eyeing up Wanda while you're at it.”

Simon blinked at that- Logan had noticed his staring? But it wasn't like it was his fault that Wanda looked good in her own workout gear, was it? His face reddened as the older man stared him down, his eyes narrowed in warning.

While this weird standoff was going on, with Simon feeling more and more like squirming under Logan's fierce gaze, Wanda continued assaulting the punchbag, panting with the effort she was putting behind her blows, apparently oblivious to what was happening behind her.

Simon's whole face was burning with humiliation now. Surely the least she could do was speak, break this moment somehow, since it was kind of her fault?

Wanda whirled round, fists still clenched, weird blue sparks coming off them, her face twisted in a snarl. Logan's lip curled in a half-smirk and only then did Simon realize he'd spoken his last thought aloud.

“My fault?” Wanda's voice was dangerously low. “You're blaming me because you're too lazy to work out properly?”

So she had been listening, to part of the exchange between him and Logan at least, though she'd given no sign of it. Pity she'd missed Logan's pointing out that _she_ had been the one distracting Simon. Or, he reflected, maybe that was a good thing... this cat-and-mouse game would be a lot less fun if she knew her feigned disinterest was bothering him already.

He winked at her, relieved that Logan had looked away, finally. “Well, I can't help it if your stunning looks kept me from concentrating.” He gave her a suggestive look, one that always made girls _melt_ back in Hollywood. “I'm sure there are more... private ways for the two of us to get exercise, if you wanted.”

Honestly, he'd only said that to see if he could get her to blush- her skin was so pasty, it looked like she was ill. Some color not derived from make-up would suit her. However, Logan, who had been leaning against a wall with his arms folded, watching Simon and Wanda the way someone would watch a sporting event, now let out a low, rumbling... growl? What the hell, was the guy a werewolf? Simon shot him a startled look, then instantly turned back to Wanda as she took one step towards him, then stopped.

Her expression now could have frozen fire, and Simon gulped. It had only been a joke, but clearly she'd taken it the wrong way. He spread his hands, about to apologize- he really wasn't that type of guy, who was only after one thing, and for some reason it mattered to him that Wanda knew that- but before he could get a word out, that blue light had engulfed her hands again, and her right hand gestured towards Simon.

With no warning and for no clear reason, he stumbled over thin air, losing his balance on the treadmill and falling face-first onto the ground. He stayed there, mortified, as Wanda stomped from the room without a word, the lights flickering and crackling above her head like she was causing a power surge, and, with one last growl at Simon, Logan followed.

Simon stifled a sigh as he slowly got to his feet, still red as a tomato from embarrassment. Getting a girl never used to be this difficult!

After that, he didn't really see Wanda for the next few days. Yeah, he saw glimpses of her in the hallways or in the kitchen, but only briefly. It seemed that whatever room he entered that she was in, she was gone. He wondered if it had to do something with the talk that he had with Xavier after the gym incident, (while Logan loomed in the background) about 'appropriate' conduct between male and female students here, and respecting women. Simon had only meant his comment to Wanda as a joke, to try and break through her hostile shell a bit, but apparently that sort of thing wasn't allowed here.

He hadn't ordered her flowers as he'd considered doing, not yet, but maybe he should, with a note spelling out that he'd only been joking when he'd teased her in the gym? Not that he wanted her to think he _wasn't_ interested, just that she needed to know he wasn't only pursuing her for physical reasons. She _was_ hot, but... that wasn't why he liked her. No, there was something else about Wanda that fascinated him, kept her in his mind, even though Simon had no idea what it was. But he'd never find out if she refused to even acknowledge that he existed!

Maybe he should do research of sorts, ask around about Wanda, learn more about her, figure out a way in, to get her to at least talk to him. She'd said some pretty bad stuff had happened to her in the past, a few days ago, but he hadn't really taken much notice. Now, he was realizing he should have: maybe there was a reason she'd reacted so badly to his half serious flirting? She wasn't speaking to him now, obviously, but he could just ask one of the other students to clue him in. _Someone_ here had to know her story, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Simon is kind of a jerk here, but he is still used to the 'golden life' of Hollywood, which has left him spoiled and arrogant. There is a better side to him, which I've tried to show, and I promise he'll improve with time: Wanda will slowly knock sense into him LOL.


	8. Chapter 8

Pietro was pacing back and forth- or, rather, doing his version of pacing, which involved zipping from one side of the large metal dome to the other- to calm his nerves while he waited for his father to actually come see what he wanted. This part had always been a waiting game, if Pietro came to Father's base. He hated it, but entering Father's private space without his permission would only ensure he wouldn't get a chance to speak to him at all. And, much as Pietro hated to admit it, Lance had had a point last week: what happened to Wanda wasn't her fault. Father needed to be told (even though the very thought made his stomach churn) but Pietro was adamant that, this time, he _would_ stand up to his father. Both because of his sister's troubles, and because the childhood memory or flashback, whatever it was that Pietro had seen while in Quebec, kept taunting him. He still couldn't figure out who the man had been, and surely Father _must_ know?

The metallic screech of a door being opened by Father's power made Pietro flinch, though hopefully he'd done so fast enough that no-one would notice. Magneto swept into view, in uniform, cape billowing behind him, but without the helmet that obscured his face. Good, Pietro thought absently, at least he'd be able to read Father's expression when he explained why he was here- and get out of the way immediately if Magneto became angry with him.

“Quicksilver.” Magneto's voice was cold, as usual. “I trust you are here for a reason, not merely out of boredom?”

 _Wanda's got her real memories back and she's jumped ship from the Brotherhood to Xavier's._ The words were right on the tip of Pietro's tongue. All he had to do was say them, and the worst would be over with. He took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "I..." He began, wondering if his father noticed the slight tremor of his hands. The older man cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to say something.

"If you were just going to stand there and say nothing, the—"

"Was I raised by another man?" Pietro suddenly blurted out. His mouth immediately snapped shut, face suddenly feeling hot. His stomach dropped with fear when he noticed his father pause, eyes glinting. His inability to shut up was something he hated most and got him into the most trouble. "Father—I'm s—"

"What gave you the idea that I never raised you?"

"I-I... I just had this weird memory, from when Wanda and I were really little, and someone else was looking after us, that's all." His hands visibly trembled and he shoved them out of sight behind his back. "I just thought it might be real. It probably wasn't. I imagined it. I'm just being dumb."

Father had that look on his face. Pietro had seen it before, when he was younger and barely knew how to lie properly. He knew that he was lying, and Pietro knew he should've kept his mouth shut and his head down.

After a long pause, Father sighed heavily, coming over and resting his hand on Pietro's shoulder. “I had hoped you would never remember those early years, for your own sake.” His eyes were shadowed, his face somber.

Pietro blinked. “Why?”

“Because the man you are remembering... he was your uncle. Your mother's brother.”

Pietro's jaw dropped. An uncle?! And, Father _never_ talked about his deceased wife, who'd died when he and Wanda were babies... “What... what happened?” It had to be really bad, if Father seemed so reluctant to tell the story.

“Your sister manifested her mutant abilities at an extraordinarily young age. The two of you were not quite four years old when I discovered you in your uncle Django's care, and she was already able to use her hexing ability, although she hadn't yet mastered the energy blasts. It was more like a telekinetic outburst linked to the glow surrounding her hands back then. Django...” Father shook his head. “He was Romani, like your mother, and superstitious as they can be.”

Pietro tensed. “He didn't hurt Wanda, did he?!” If he had, that might explain why his sister, even as a kid, had always been so _angry_...

“No, but he feared her powers, as humans so often do. When I located him, he was eager, thrilled almost, to be rid of the two of you, knowing you'd likely end up a mutant as well. He left almost immediately. I brought the two of you to America, but I have no idea what became of Django Maximoff. He never reached out to me to find you after that.”

Pietro's eyes stung with tears, his fists clenched. Another human who hated mutants, this one part of Pietro's own blood family! Father's hand squeezed his shoulder, as if trying to offer comfort. “Do you see why I deemed it best to keep this from you, that your own uncle disowned you simply for being a mutant?”

His eyes were burning, but he couldn't cry in front of his father. He stared down at his shoes, nodding silently.

Father's hand moved to his jaw, forcing him to look up into his eyes. "Use your words, boy."

Pietro's legs felt like they were ready to give out from under him. "Yes, Father." He said, even if the words tasted like ash in his mouth. Father released him, giving him one last look before he turned, walking back towards the door. Pietro stared at him with a confused look. "Father? Whe—"

"There's something I want to show you, Pietro."

"What?" He was confused: after revealing something like that, Father just wanted to... show him something?

Father didn't say anything in response, merely continuing down the hallway. Pietro bit his lip, contemplating if he should follow. He doubts his father expects him to leave, knowing that his words would not be enough to satiate his curiosity, but he doesn't know what Father wants him to see. Wanda has always been an open wound for him. He could barely stand to see her, much less hear her. Father was the same way. Pietro could never tell much about his father, but this he did. So it was highly unlikely he was about to see his sister- unless Father somehow already knew she'd recovered her memories, and wanted to make Pietro suffer for not keeping the truth from her. He swallowed the lump in his throat and rushed to follow his father, who has begun to disappear around the corner.

They ended up in the Viewing Room, a name Pietro had always thought boring, if accurate: the space was dominated by a huge videoscreen that took up an entire wall. It was linked to multiple satellites and could view almost anywhere on Earth. Clearly, what Father wanted him to see was a recording of some sort, but what it could be, he had no idea. Father's back was turned as he typed something into the console, and Pietro steeled himself. He still had to tell Father about Wanda, and breaking _that_ news would be easier if he didn't have to look at Magneto's face.

His mouth opened but like before, nothing seemed to want to come out. It would just be so simple to tell his father about his sister and leave. Yet something kept him from saying anything. His stomach churned uncomfortably every time he began to think of talking. Suddenly, his father backed away from the console, standing beside Pietro, unaware (although, the speedster knew his father was aware of how uncomfortable he was) of what he wanted to say. Something that looked like it came from an old film began to play on the screen. Puzzled (and kind of relieved that he had an excuse not to talk right now) Pietro stared at the screen. "What is-"

"Be quiet and watch." Father ordered. Out of habit, Pietro closed his mouth and obeyed, though his mind whirled with questions as the 'home movie' began playing. Pietro watched, his head tilted to one side, only half paying attention: until he figured out that the forest in the recording was the same one he and Wanda had been in during the 'flashback' he'd had earlier that week. It was summer in the video, and there were people seated here and there, in groups, near wooden caravans, but he was _sure_ it was the same place. Riveted now, he watched more closely. Were these Romani, his mother's people? He hadn't even _known_ she'd been Romani until today! Two small children, hardly older than toddlers, seemed to be the focus of the film. The image was black and white, but he could see dark hair on the girl, paler hair on the boy, and a shiver ran down his spine. "Where... Where is this, Father?" He asked rather quietly, eyes rapidly taking everything in.

"A Romani settlement in Eastern Europe." Father replied emotionlessly.

He felt Father's hand on his shoulder when the boy in the film fell, the little girl giggling. Pietro squinted, wondering why it looked so familiar until it clicked into place: this was him and Wanda. He resisted the urge to look away, to demand his father to turn this off now. Father was showing him this for a reason. He shouldn't throw away this opportunity because of childish reasons. As he watched the girl—No, _Wanda_ help him up, Pietro could see the Romani people in the background watching them. The younger looking ones watched with them with small smiles, but Pietro couldn't focus on that. All he could see were the guarded looks of the elders, the way an older woman ushered her child away from them, the odd hand gestures some of the truly old made, as if warding the young twins away. He went cold. "They hated us even then." Even he didn't know if he meant the Romani, or humans in general.

His father was silent, but the way his hand tightened on Pietro's shoulder was all he needed. "I never wanted you to know about how even from birth, you were never accepted. Your uncle allowed this to happen, and I should've been there sooner." His father told him, a solemn tone to his voice. Pietro turned to him, but for some reason, he could not meet his eyes.

"Father, you... Thank you, for showing me. I understand that you were—were protecting me." Yet still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. The memory he had had of the man- of his uncle, Django- showed him being loving and affectionate with him and Wanda. This film suggested otherwise. None of this really added up.

He was suddenly very grateful he hadn't told Father about Wanda yet. He still needed to know, of course, but... now just didn't feel like the right time for it.

* * *

The sun was setting, leaving an orange glow on the horizon that blinded the two adults in the group as they trudged wearily towards the home that had been allotted to them. The middle aged man looked back with a sigh: his eight year old daughter was dragging her feet, with her brother, two years younger, clinging to her hand and rubbing his eyes. The man's wife paused next to him, sighing as she regarded the run-down house that stood before them. A weed-choked, litter filled front yard, a graffitied front door, and no sign of curtains at the windows.

"I suppose we should be grateful the Americans in charge here even _gave_ us a house." The woman muttered in Rromani, sighing before ushering the children down the path and indoors. The man picked up the few bags they had, squaring his shoulders before following her. His wife had been right: it was a roof over their heads, and presuming he could find work here in this Bayville place, or further afield in New York, eventually they would find someplace better to live. In the meantime, he would do everything he could to turn this place into a home for his family. They deserved that much from him, after letting him uproot them so often in the fruitless search for the ghosts of his past failures.

He couldn't, wouldn't, let them down again.


	9. Chapter 9

"So, Ms. Maximoff, there's some questions that I'd like to ask you if you're comfortable with answering." Hank said as she stepped off the scales, scribbling down the small numbers onto his paper. She didn't bother with her shoes as he gestured for her to sit down on the table.

"Not like I have anything better to do." She replied with an almost monotonous tone. He hummed as he gently grabbed her hand, pressing his fingers against the inside of her wrist. Wanda let her eyes dart towards the ceiling, reminding herself that this was the medical room at Xavier's, not the infirmary at that so-called hospital.

Hank made a 'hmm' noise in his throat, and Wanda let out a small huff. "You wanted to ask me something?" The sooner she answered him, the sooner this routine checkup would be over and she could get out of this sterile room that stirred up so many bad memories in her mind.

"What's your date of birth?" He asked as he stepped away, furred hands clicking away at the computer. She inhaled, closing her eyes. She only really knew that she was born during the colder months, according to what she remembered. Erik wasn't one to celebrate anything, and during her time in the asylum, none of the staff had ever told her. "Wanda?" A voice said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She looked at Hank, who was staring at her with a concerned look. "Um... to be honest, I don't know. I don't remember. I was just a kid when I was locked away.” She refused to look at him, not wanting to see pity in his eyes. “Pietro told me we're 18 now, so I guess we were born in...” She counted back years in her head quickly. “Uh, 1983."

"Ah, really? Wouldn't have guessed." The man remarked. She frowned, wondering what he meant by that, but he continued on.

"Do you have any known allergies?" He asked. She shook her head. Honestly, if she did, she wouldn't know. He marked that down on what she guessed was her school document. This continued for several more minutes; him asking her general questions about her health, either being met with silence or clipped answers.

"Can you tell me your ethnicity?"

"Hm... White, I think."

He paused, giving her an odd look. "I was searching for your birth certificate so I can add it to your medical file, but I wasn't have much luck finding it. Are Romani people generally grouped with white ethnicity? I'm sorry I don't really know much about your people, Wanda." He commented.

She blinked a few times, stunned. Romani? Her people? “I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about.”

He cocked his eyebrow but didn't press any further. There was a thick silence between them as he continued marking things down, leaving her to her thoughts. She had never heard the term Romani before, and didn't understand why he thought it applied to her. As far as she knew, she was Jewish. Erik never told her or Pietro much about himself, but they had found things hidden in boxes up in the attic that were the only things he had from his parents. Perhaps Jewish people were often Romani.

She examined her arms, now crossed in front of her. She'd gotten tanned lately and her skin was a lot more brown than it used to be, but that was normal, wasn't it, now she was out walking in the sun almost every day, something she'd taken to doing when the noise and chaos of the Institute got too much for her. It made pulling off her Goth look a bit harder, since she wasn't pale anymore, but Ororo and Jean had both commented on how brown and healthy she now looked, so she figured it wasn't too bad. Even though, looking now, she realized she didn't really look like a white girl anymore, despite what she'd told Hank moments ago. Was Romani a different race altogether or something?

Hank finally looked back at her. “You really have no idea of your own ethnicity?”

“You think I'm Romani?” She prodded, hoping he'd tell her more about what that actually meant.

“I'm sure of it. DNA tests can prove someone's racial origins, and there is no doubt that one of your parents or grandparents was Romani.”

“But...” No-one ever told me, she wanted to say. But who would have? Magneto? As if he'd tell anyone anything unless it benefited him somehow!

"I... Would you like a minute alone? I didn't realize you had no idea." Hank offered, hovering close to the door.

Wanda honestly didn't know what she wanted right now. She closed her eyes, her head hanging. If her father was willing to keep this from her, who knew what else he hadn't told her. Or Pietro, her mind supplied, but she honestly didn't want to bother with that right now. "It's... Fine. Let's just get this over with."

"You can actually leave, if you want. I have all that I really need for your file." He explained.

“Oh. Right, sure. I'll just go and...” What? What should she do now? What was the 'normal' thing to do when you'd just found out that half of your own heritage had been hidden from you for your entire life? “I'll be in the library if you need me.” She turned and left quickly. Maybe in the library, she could find out more about Romani people and their culture, learn a bit about them. As she walked, she racked her brains, thinking back to what seemed like a different lifetime, before the asylum: had the word Romani ever been mentioned then? Logic dictated that it must have come from her mother's side. Erik had done everything in his power to keep anything about her hidden, so it wasn't like Wanda was grasping at straws. All he had ever told them was that his family was Jewish. She sighed to herself as she reached the library, feeling a headache beginning to form. She wondered if Pietro knew anything. Erik would likely tell him if her brother asked for all she knew- Pietro was his favorite. She browsed through the shelves, eyes scanning the spines of the books. There probably weren't any books now that she thought about it, it wasn't exactly a common subject, but still. It didn't hurt to look.

Eventually, Wanda came across the cultural section after spending several minutes going through the non-fiction shelves. She skimmed over the titles, looking for any that started with R. After some searching, she found a book titled 'Romani Culture and Gypsy Identity' that looked as if it had never been read. She froze momentarily. Gypsy? Was that what her mother had been? Shrugging, she pulled down the book, retreating to one of the soft chairs and beginning to leaf through it.She lost track of time as she read through the contents, unsure how to feel. There was anger, about not knowing about her mother's culture, about being kept in the dark about this side of her. Curiosity, wondering how she would've turned out had her mother been around. Frustration, at trying to understand something she should've already known. Wanda groaned, snapping the book shut. She didn't know what to even think now. It wasn't like she could hunt down her father and demand why he kept this secret. She'd honestly kill him on sight if she did. Then, she would lose any and all hopes of figuring out who her mother was or what she was like when she was around (if she ever was, Wanda thought bitterly). There had to be someone else she could ask... Xavier! He had once been Magneto's friend. Surely if anybody knew anything about his wife, the Professor would?

She glanced around the library before shoving the book under her shirt, hoping no one was paying attention. She stood from the chair and calmly walked out of the room, not really sure if students were allowed to take books from there. No one had stopped her by the time she reached the staircase, so Wanda guessed she had left unnoticed. She stopped by her room to drop the book off, carefully placing it on her bed. The last thing she wanted to do was treat the only connection she had with her mother badly. Then, she headed off towards the Professor's office. She knew the man would be there. He only taught classes in the morning, she had learned, and it was well into the afternoon the last time she checked. To her relief, he was there, and looked up with a smile before she'd even knocked on the half-open door.

"Come in, Wanda." She did, but immediately felt awkward: how was she supposed to bring up this subject? 'So I don't know anything about my own mother because Magneto never saw fit to tell me and I thought he might have told you'?

She stood by the chairs in front of his desk, not really wanting to sit down. He gave her a curious look but didn't say anything. The words were right there but they refused to come out. She didn't know how to ask him, and she was quite frankly getting irritated with herself.

"Wanda? Is something wrong?" Xavier questioned. The last thing she wanted was him skimming through her mind, but how else was he going to know her question? He must have taken her silence as an affirmative, wheeling around to her side. "Do I need to get Mr. McC—"

"Did you know my mother?" She snapped. She didn't intend to sound so harsh, but she was tired of having things kept from her that she _should_ know. Xavier didn't seem like he was expecting that, judging from the shocked look on his face. However, the man quickly composed himself, instead peering up at her curiously.

"Your mother?"

"Yes! What did you know about her?"

"I..." Xavier was frowning. "Not a great deal, if I am honest. She passed away some years before I met Erik, and he rarely spoke of her." He folded his hands in front of him. "What's brought this question on?"

"Mr McCoy, sort of. During my medical, he informed me that I'm Romani. Or half, I suppose. Wanted to know if there were any cultural things that needed to go in my file. Unfortunately, I don't know, since I had no idea until today!"

Xavier looked stunned. There were no other words for his expression. "Magda was Romani?" He shook his head. "I don't... I never knew. I always assumed she was Caucasian, and from Germany, like Erik. He never indicated otherwise." He now scrutinized Wanda more closely, taking in her skin tone. "Now I know, seeing the way the sun has 'bronzed' you, for lack of a kinder term, I don't know how I never realized it before."

She snorted. "Neither did I."

The Professor gave her a look. He had made it clear before he wouldn't look through her mind without her consent, but something told her that he wanted in her head. For what, she couldn't tell, but probably something about Magneto.

"You mean Erik never told you anything?" He asked curiously, confirming her suspicions. She felt her mouth twist into a forced smile.

"You honestly think he'd tell me _that_? He never even told me or Pietro when our birthday was." She snapped. She had come looking for answers from the only person that knew her father when he was younger. Instead, she got nothing but even more questions.

Xavier shook his head, but kept his eyes from hers, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry I cannot give you more answers. But..." He sighed. "It is possible, if you were willing, for me to attempt to access your very earliest memories. It is proven that memories of the day of one's birth are retained, but cannot be consciously recalled. If nothing else, you might be able to at least see your mother. If you agree."

Wanda paused. She knew that it would be her best option, but she didn't want anyone in her head, friendly or not. She didn't know what memories her father had removed from her head, or what memories he had planted. Unless Xavier could tell which memories were real or not, and since not even _she_ knew it would be a miracle. However, she would feel childish if she didn't. She was strong, the most powerful mutant the Brotherhood ever had. She shouldn't be feeling scared of one simple telepath whose intentions were clear.

The Professor must have understood her reluctance however, and gave her an understanding smile. "If you don't feel comfortable with that, I could get someone you feel safe around to sit with you as I do this. Or, we could instead search for people who knew your mother."

"You think there might be people still alive who knew her?" A faint hope flared to life inside her. What if she still had other family out there, even? She cut that thought off almost immediately though: even if members of her mother's family _were_ still around, why would they want anything to do with her, a mutant with anger issues and a damaged mind who couldn't even fully trust her own memories? She was a mess.

"I believe Erik may have mentioned something about searching for her family shortly after her death. She could still have living relatives, although, I don't know where." He answered.

She felt conflicted now. She wanted to know about her family, about herself many than anything. Yet still, they could've hated her. Wanda sighed before shaking her head. "No, I... Just forget I asked about it, Professor."

"Wanda-"

"If she had other family, they're most likely humans. Even if they aren't afraid of mutants, I don't want to drag them into anything involving my father." She all but ran from the room before he could protest further.

* * *

It had been a week since they had moved into the dilapidated house on the outskirts of Bayville, and most of that time had been spent with him, his wife and their two children cleaning to make this place fit to live in. Now, at last, it was reasonably clean and free from pests and cobwebs, and the children were sound asleep in their room. His wife busied herself in the kitchen while he reached into the lockbox he always kept close to him while travelling, taking out the two framed pictures inside and holding them reverently, as he always did. As usual, he carefully studied each photograph, blinking back tears at the pang of pain he felt. One precious image of his twin sister, who had departed this world less than a year after bringing two lives into it, almost two decades ago now, and one photograph of him with her little ones. Children he had promised to protect, and raised from infancy, loving them dearly- and that he had then lost, and by so doing, failed the deathbed promise he'd made to his sister. Setting the pictures carefully on the now-clean mantle, he stood. As per his usual ritual, silently, he apologized to his lost sister, and repeated the promise he had made, oh, so many times now over the years. _I will find them. Somehow, someday, I will find them again._ Light footsteps sounded, and his wife's hand rested on his shoulder. He covered it with his own, accepting her comfort as he attempted to master his own grief, forcing himself to look away from the photos.

"Django, love, it is late. We need to sleep." Marya whispered softly. She knew why he suffered, of course, but he knew she was right. He could not remain here and brood all night long. She slid her arm round his shoulders and led him from the room, whispering consolation as they trudged up the creaking stairs to their own small room. Still the refrain echoed in his mind. _I promise you, Magda, eventually I WILL find your children. No matter what it takes_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from the authors: We are aware that the word 'gypsy' is viewed as an insult by Romani, and we mean no offense to anyone. The book referenced in this chapter is a real book, and, unfortunately, it is titled as the story states, and, in-story, Wanda at this point doesn't know that the word 'gypsy' is offensive.


	10. Chapter 10

Simon muttered to himself in annoyance: how had he managed to get _lost_ in a place as small as Bayville? He'd planned to go to the large wooded park that (according to the fuzzy guy, Kurt) Wanda sometimes went to- he was still trying to make up for what he'd said in the gym, weeks ago now. But he'd taken a wrong turn somewhere and now didn't know where he was. He kept walking, hoping something familiar would help him orient himself, because he _really_ didn't want to have to call Warren and admit he didn't have a clue where he was.

Judging by the state of the houses lining each side of the pavement, this was the low-rent side of Bayville: tiny homes, with peeling paintwork and front yards the size of postage stamps.

A sudden clamor of voices made him jump: male voices, shouting and jeering, glass smashing, and then, two higher pitched, panicked voices, crying out in some foreign language. He heard crude language and insults from the older voices, then a child's scream followed, and Simon's blood ran cold. Kids. What sounded like people his age were scaring _kids_. Clenching his fists, he set off down the side road the noise was coming from.

A blond guy in a red high school sport jacket was squaring off with two kids. He held a wooden toy of some kind above his head, out of the reach of the crying kids, neither of whom looked like they were even ten. The blond jerk was being egged on by two friends, amid jeering laughter and insults about the kids' (Simon presumed) non-English language and their brown skin tone, and mocking the kids' crying.

Simon gritted his teeth as he approached, glowering at the bullies. He might not be the most selfless guy in the world, but he wouldn't put up with anyone acting like _this_.

Without even hesitating, he plucked the toy- an intricately carved puppy, it turned out, from the blond guy. “I know you immature idiots probably still need toys to amuse yourselves, but I don't think this one is yours, is it?” Not even giving the teens a second glance- he knew from his years in Hollywood that jerks like that thrived on attention- he bent down to be nearer the kids' height (additionally pissed off that these kids hadn't even left their _front yard_ and still the bullies had targeted them) and gingerly offered the wooden dog back, leaning slightly over the moss-covered crumbling wall. “Here you go.” He spoke softly, without any idea if the kids would understand him or not. Surely offering the toy back would make sense to them?

The older kid, the girl, reached out, very slowly, taking the toy and then grabbing her brother's hand and recoiling, clutching the toy protectively, as if she feared it would be taken away again. Simon smiled kindly at her. “It's alri-”

His words were cut off by a sudden blow to his face. He barely felt it- his main reaction was shock- but a door slammed inside the house and a man burst into the yard, watching Simon and the other teens warily, calling to the children (probably his) in a language Simon didn't understand a word of.

The blond boy looked like he was seething, arm raised to throw another punch. His friends hadn't even moved, squaring up their shoulders like they were even an ounce intimidating. Simon couldn't help the smirk on his face when he easily caught the other boy's hand, feeling smug at how surprised he looked. Did he seriously think that Simon couldn't defend himself?

"Listen man, I don't know what your deal is, but this is just pathetic." Simon told him, watching as he struggled to get his hand out of his hold. Blondie's friends seemed to finally catch on that Simon wasn't just easy prey, but the former movie star wasn't done yet. "Attacking kids? Are you serious? I know I'm an ass, but you guys just made a new low."

"What's this got to do with you anyway?" the blond guy spat, struggling (and failing) to get out of Simon's grip. "We're just trying to show that we don't want people like _them_ ," he nodded towards the kids, now huddled close to the man Simon figured was their father, "In our country. They don't belong here. Like it's not bad enough Bayville is overrun with mutie freaks, now we've got immigrants to scrounge off us too?"

Simon rolled his eyes. This kind of hate speech was pointless. "So let me guess: you tried picking on mutants, and that didn't work out because they're too tough for you, so you found an easier target?" He stepped closer, looming over the blond kid. "That just means you're a coward." He removed his sunglasses with his free hand, just for a second, revealing his glowing purple eyes. "And you might wanna be careful about who you're talking to when you badmouth mutants. Just a tip." Simon wasn't exactly _thrilled_ to be a mutant, but his time at Xavier's school.... there _was_ a sense of camaraderie there. He let go of the blond guy, shoving him backwards, smirking when he fell on his ass on the sidewalk. His friends rushed to help him up, all three now glaring daggers at Simon as they raced away down the street. He shrugged it off, glancing back to check on the man and his kids. All three were staring and he hastily replaced his sunglasses- who knew if they'd ever heard of mutants?

The man, however, had apparently followed the conversation, or some of it, because he put out a hand to stop Simon. "You... are a... mutant?" He had a heavy accent, and obviously wasn't used to the word mutant, but his words were intelligible enough.

"Yes...." Simon felt a bit uneasy- there was some strong emotion in the man's face, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Do you know of others like you here?" The man stepped forward, his eyes almost blazing in intensity now. "There are two... members of my family I have been searching for, for many years."

Simon stared at the guy, a little unsure of what to say. Obviously, this guy hadn't attacked him yet or said anything rude that he understood, so Simon guessed he wasn't asking to be rude.

"Um, yeah. There's more mutants here, like that guy said." He replied, keeping it vague. He wasn't just going to expose that they had a whole damn school in the area.

However, instead of disgust like he expected, the man's face grew elated.

"Oh, this... This is _wonderful!_ Please, do you know of a girl and boy, twins? The girl has dark curly hair and the boy has very light hair, almost white?" The man suddenly began to question, barely giving Simon enough time to understand what was happening.

As much as he got around in the school, he didn't actually know if there were any twin mutants there. Sure, there might've been, but he didn't really pay attention to that. "Um, sorry, but i don't know." Simon explained.

The man's face fell slightly, but he composed himself. "Please, if you see any of that description, may you find me? My name is Django Maximoff."

Simon's jaw nearly dropped. _Maximoff? Like Wanda?_ Years of acting served him well, as he managed to keep a straight face, and nodded, mumbling a promise, before making himself scarce. Was Wanda a twin? He knew she had a brother that (according to Warren) she wasn't on speaking terms with, but he didn't know what the brother looked like, or if they were twins. The man, Django, having exactly the same surname though, that was weird. And, lately, Wanda _had_ gotten a lot browner. Not as dark as that family, but close. Plus, her hair was curly, similar to the man's, and kind of like that other girl Kitty, the one time he'd seen her first thing in the morning, before she'd straightened her hair into its usual ponytail. He resolved to bring this up with Xavier first: better to get some advice than to risk putting his foot in it with Wanda again.

* * *

Charles sat still, his hands folded, his eyes wide with shock after hearing Simon's tale, the encounter with this Django Maximoff. He had called Simon in after hearing rumors flying around the school of an altercation between the ex-actor and Duncan Matthews, a young man who had, at various times in the past, caused trouble for Charles' students. Simon's version of events made sense, but nonetheless Charles had made it clear that violence was frowned upon. As for the rest of it, this Django Maximoff... Charles frowned. He had never heard the name, but, judging by what the man had apparently said, he had clearly known Wanda and Pietro at one point in their lives, and seemed to be looking for them now, had perhaps even moved to Bayville for that very reason. The question was, what was to be done about it now?

Simon appeared to be pondering the same thing, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. “Should I bring it up with Wanda, do you think? If this guy's part of her family...”

However, Charles shook his head. "No, leave that to me, Mr. Williams." He said to the boy. The rivalry between him and Ms. Maximoff would probably have a different effect than what the boy intended, so it was better left to Charles to break the news to her. Before that, however, he would reach out to this Django himself, find out who he truly was, how much he knew, and what he might want with Wanda- and Pietro.


	11. Chapter 11

It was a surprisingly difficult process to find one man, Charles Xavier came to realize. Finding any documentation of someone with the name of Django Maximoff was an absolute nightmare. He had pulled some connections to have files of anyone with the name who entered the country sent to him, finding multiple men who shared it. He didn't know how popular the name was among the Romani, but he had found that there were several Django Maximoffs in the United States. The telepath admittedly had no idea if the man legally shared the same surname as Wanda and Pietro, but he kept those files in case. When he realized just looking for the name wouldn't work (honestly, he knew that was unrealistic, but still), he moved onto each man's relatives. There was little that Charles knew of the Maximoff family and he doubted that Wanda knew much either, since she had only recently learned, courtesy of Hank, that her mother had been Romani. Mr. Williams had specifically mentioned the man having two young children, which honestly did help with the investigation.

Charles had narrowed it down to eight men from the twelve he had found, and tossed out an additional three when he remembered that one child was a girl and the other was a boy. There was a Django Maximoff that lived in Westchester but the telepath doubted he was the man that Mr. Williams met. A closer look into his file mentioned this man having a brother. That ruled him out. Charles knew the Maximoff family that Erik had known didn't have multiple sons from when Erik had mentioned, long ago. Three of the others lived in a Romani settlement nearby. They could have been related to Wanda, but Charles knew they likely weren't the one that Simon had seen.

He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Erik was never one to lie about his family, and from the little he had told Charles before their falling out, he knew that his deceased wife only had a brother. This only left one file. This Django Maximoff lived somewhat close to the Romani settlement, but in one of the rougher neighborhoods. He had two children, a boy and a girl like the others, but his file mentioned that he had several deceased relatives. Specifically, a sister. He was the only one in this search that had a record of that. He had to be the one.

Charles sat back, his hands folded, deep in thought. The files he had found on this man, assuming this was the one he sought, were translations provided for the American government, the originals remaining in Transia, a tiny Eastern European country that Charles knew little about. However, this particular Django Maximoff had evidently moved around a _lot_ over the past decade and a half, uprooting himself, and later, his family, from place to place every few months. There were over twelve known addresses in North America alone. While this was not uncommon, a Romani family leading a nomadic life, something told Charles that this man had been looking for something.

Mr. Williams mentioned the man asking about twin mutants, even giving a description of Wanda and Pietro, but that made little sense. As far as Charles knew, Erik had his children in his care since they were born, and he doubted that his old friend stayed with the Maximoff family long enough for the twins to display their mutant abilities.

Unless this Django somehow knew Wanda and Pietro would present as mutants, there was no other reason for him to be asking about mutants. Still, he couldn't allow that to keep him from speaking with this man. Perhaps he moved around because his own children were mutants and he'd heard of the Institute? That wouldn't explain this Django's asking about Wanda and Pietro, but it was worth looking into. The telepath looked at the address and wrote it down on a sticky note, wondering if Ororo or Logan were free to make a trip later. Quickly checking with Ororo, via a telepathic conversation, that she was free, he decided to have her and Logan go and visit this Django that afternoon, once classes were done for the day, to find out what this was all about.

* * *

Ororo was frowning, clearly troubled, as she took in the tiny, run down house. "This place was deemed suitable for a family with two children?"

Logan's nose twitched, undoubtedly smelling the mold or any animal infestation this house may have. "Welcome to the hidden side of America, Ororo." The man said before crushing his cigar beneath his boot. She gave him a hesitant look before walking up to the front door, carefully knocking on the wood. The pair waited, hearing the sounds of someone moving inside, then whispering, followed by two sets of light footsteps receding quickly, before a woman opened the door. She had dark hair pulled back, revealing a young but tired face. She looked at them in surprise, almost like she wasn't expecting them.

"Oh... Um, who are you?" She questioned in an accented voice. The two mutants were informed beforehand that the family may not speak English, so they knew that some of their words may not be understood.

Ororo smiled at her, far more welcoming than Logan, who kept his usual scowl. "I'm Ororo Munroe." She answered, holding her hand out. The woman glanced down at it before hesitantly shaking it, smiling softly back at her. "I'm a teacher at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."

The woman brightened at those words. "The special school?" She asked, her smile growing. Ororo glanced at Logan, who didn't seem too bothered by the choice of words. She knew he would've done or said something if he sensed any bad intentions. So, Ororo nodded.

"Yes, the school for mutants."

" _Marya?_ " A male voice called from inside, speaking a language Ororo did not recognize. " _Who's at the door?_ "

The woman, Marya, called back, but spoke in that same language, presumably Romani, her voice bright and excited. Footsteps pounded towards the front door before she had even finished speaking, and a taller man burst into view, eyes locked on the visitors. His hands were almost shaking with emotion.

"You are from the school of mutants?" The words burst from him, as if he could not bear to wait for them to speak. "Do you have news of the twins?"

"What twins?" Logan questioned, frowning at the new arrival.

The man paused, glancing between the two like he was waiting for something. "I... My niece and nephew? Are they... Do they not attend your school?"

Ororo put a hand on Logan's shoulder, silently telling him to let her do the talking. "I'm sorry, sir, but we weren't told anything about any specific twins at our school. Could you tell us their names? We may have them in our classes." She explained.

The man seemed to exhale in relief. His hand reached into his pocket and pulled something out of his worn wallet, a rather yellowed picture that had seen better days. There was a younger man that was obviously him, and two children sitting on his lap. One was a girl with dark hair and a boy with light hair. The girl had a bright smile on her face whereas the boy seemed to hide his face in the man's chest. "My niece and nephew, Wanda and Pietro?"

There was a stunned silence for a few minutes. Surprisingly, it was Logan who managed to speak first. "We didn't know that Wanda had any other relatives." He gestured at the photo. "But looks like you looked after them for a while when they were younger?"

Django frowned before peeking outside, glancing around the street. He motioned for them to follow him and his wife, leading them to what the mutants guessed was their living room after locking the front door. He gestured for them to sit down, and after running a hand through his hair, turned to them with a frown. "I'm going to assume that you think Erik Lensherr raised them for their entire lives."

Ororo quirked an eyebrow. "Think? Are you saying it isn't true?"

"Erik didn't raise those children. I did. When my sister died, I looked after them like my own, from when they were eight weeks old, for almost four years." He told them.

Logan's noise subtly twitched. Ororo glanced at him and noticed the dip of his head. The man was telling the truth. "So Erik didn't initially raise the twins?"

Django's face hardened. "Absolutely not. They called _me_ their father. Not that monster."

"Monster?" Logan asked, noticing the sheer hatred coming from the man.

Django chuckled like that was humorous. "You think someone like him could raise children? My sister ran from him the minute she knew she was pregnant. She knew that his own _children_ wouldn't be safe around him."

"No argument there." Logan muttered under his breath. Ororo subtly elbowed him in the side, glancing from Django to Marya, her brow furrowed.

"I believe you, but... I'm sorry, this isn't adding up. We are aware that Erik Lensherr had the children in his care, at least for a while." She decided, given Django's current mood, not to mention _how_ they knew that, what Wanda's life had been like from the age of seven when Erik had her locked away. "If you raised them after their mother passed, as you claim, how did he take custody of them?"

Django's face crumpled and Marya rested her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. She turned to Ororo, her eyes blazing. "Because that _creature_ stole them from him, fourteen years ago."

Logan and Ororo glanced at each other. If Magneto was willing to employ children—including his own _son_ —into committing crimes and to kill all humans, not to mention locking up, and then brainwashing his own daughter- they couldn't deny that Django and Marya were right in calling him a monster, especially if he had, in fact, stolen the twins from their main caregiver at just three or four years of age.

"We... didn't know that. I apologize, Mr. Maximoff, for what he did to you." Ororo said to him.

However, the man shook his head. "No, don't apologize. I was foolish for ever thinking that man changed because of his grief, and letting him near the twins."

"Doesn't mean you did something stupid. It wasn't your fault for having basic empathy, bub." Logan mentioned.

Django shook his head, however, obviously not believing those words.

Marya looked between the two and finally said the question that Django was probably waiting his whole life to hear. "You do know where the twins are, yes?"

Ororo took a deep breath. This was going to be hard to explain. “Yes. Wanda is a student at our school, she has been for the past two months. Pietro.... I'm afraid that is a lot more complicated to explain.”

Django and Marya looked at each other, concerned looks on their faces.

"What is wrong with Pietro?" Marya questioned.

"I'm afraid Pietro is with his f—I mean, Erik. Both he and, until recently, Wanda, were a part of his Brotherhood." Ororo explained.

"Brotherhood...?" Django asked.

"Basically Erik's own team of mutants." Logan explained. "They terrorize humans and get into trouble. Our students usually deal with them."

Django inhaled sharply, the color from his face disappearing. Marya slipped her hand into her husband's, leaning against him as the two mutants allowed them to process this information.

Django blinked rapidly several times, clearly holding back tears. "Little Pietro..." His words were choked.

Marya inhaled sharply. "You said Wanda _was_ with these... trouble-makers? But she is at your school now, safe and well?"

Ororo nodded, a sad smile on her face. "Yes, she is. Although she's not formally enrolled into our school, she has a room and can practice her mutation safely."

Marya sighed in relief but Django still seemed troubled. Ororo couldn't understand how he felt, but she imagined this revelation was devastating for him.

Logan shifted beside her and rested a hand on her knee, giving it a comforting squeeze before he spoke. "We came here for a reason, and that was to invite you to the school to talk to our employer, Professor Xavier." He informed them.

"Really?" Django asked.

Logan nodded. "He wants to talk to you about everything. Wants to tell you how the twins are doing and what you missed out on."

Django fairly leapt to his feet. "And I will get to see my little Wanda again, at last?"

Logan and Ororo exchanged looks. "Yes, but... that may not be today." Ororo said awkwardly, twisting her hands.

"Why not?! Don't you think I've been parted from my family long enough?"

"It ain't- isn't that simple, bub.” Logan cut in. “Wanda... she's had a tough life. But it's best if you come with us and let Professor Xavier explain all that."

The man frowned but nevertheless nodded. He turned to his wife and said something to her in Romani before giving her a kiss. She left the living room and disappeared into the hallway, leaving the three by themselves.

Ororo and Logan both stood, telling Django that they would wait for him outside as he got ready. As they stood on the front porch, Ororo turned to Logan, a troubled look on her face. "How do you think he's going to take it?"

"Learning that his niece was abandoned and pretty much tortured?" Logan asked. At the nod of her head, the man snorted. "You saw how he got hearing that Pietro was still with Erik. Bub is gonna be devastated."

Ororo frowned. "And Wanda herself... Goddess alone knows what she'll make of all this."

Logan huffed. "If she wasn't even four when bucket-head stole her and Pietro, odds are she won't even remember the truth now. Especially considering the mind-wiping thing he had done to her. I'm more worried about why Chuck didn't know any of this."

"Perhaps he does? Maybe he wants to keep it between him and Django for privacy reasons." The woman suggested, but they didn't continue the discussion, instead lapsing into silence. The door opened a moment later. Django stepped outside, a jacket in hand, before locking the door. They led him to the car, all getting in before Logan pulled away down the street. "So, bub, did you and the Professor talk much?" Logan asked, rolling down the window and he lit another cigar.

"Who?" The man asked.

"He means Charles- Professor Xavier. We all refer to him as that at the school." Ororo explained.

Django hummed before nodding. "Yes. We spoke briefly over the phone. He said we would talk at my home, but I thought he would be the one coming."

"Nah, he sent us out. Sorry about that." Logan replied as he flicked ashes out the window.

"It is fine." Django waved his hand dismissively. "I imagine with a school full of young mutants, he has much to do." He leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands together, glancing at Ororo, then Logan. "But will neither of you tell me anything of my niece before I meet her?"

Ororo looked at Logan, biting her lip before she turned in her seat. "Wanda is... She's rather stubborn. She keeps to herself, but she's a good addition at the school. She has some bad moments, but she doesn't mean them." She told the man.

However, she was rather surprised when she noticed him nodding. "Yes, Wanda was like that when she was younger. She used to accidentally hurt Pietro, but I know she never meant to. It was a difficult situation for her to have to control something she didn't understand."

"What do you mean?"

Django stared at her with an odd expression. "Her mutation, I think, emerged when she was around two years old. Her hands would glow and things would either float, change in odd ways, or she'd burn something."

"At two?!" Logan asked, an incredulous look to his face.

"Yes. Magda, my sister and their mother, said that could happen but it wasn't often." Django added.

Ororo nodded. It was a little odd that a human—she assumed that's what his sister was—knew so much about mutants. "That is incredibly young, but it's been known to happen. I just wouldn't have thought that."

"Really?" Django questioned. “Why?”

"When Wanda came to our school, she had little control over her powers. You make it seem like she would have better control."

Django frowned. "That is odd. It happened spontaneously when she was small, but it was a simple enough matter for her to make it stop. Perhaps it is only that her powers have grown since she came to you, that causes her problems now?"

Ororo bit her lip again. _How much should I reveal?_ "I... don't think so. From what we know of Wanda's childhood," Which admittedly, given what Django had revealed, wasn't as much as they'd thought, "She had difficulties with control even when she was young, when Erik- er, after he took the twins." She closed her mouth. It wasn't her place to go into any more detail than that. Thankfully, Django didn't pry anymore into it, presumably satisfied with what she told him. The drive to the Institute wasn't that long but it seemed to take forever to get there. Ororo didn't know if it was because of the situation or what, but she was glad when they finally pulled up the entrance. Logan entered the code to let them in, the gate slowly opening before he pulled up the driveway and parked near the garage. "I'll take you to Xavier." Logan told the man as they got out.

"I can do that, Logan." Ororo said. "I know you were busy with something before we left, you can go back to it."

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's your planning period, anyway." The mutant told her with a dismissive gesture. Then, he looked at Django and tilted his head towards the door. "Follow me, Maximoff." He didn't bother talking to the man as they walked, moving quickly, glaring at any students in the way so that they cleared off without gawking at the stranger or asking dumb questions. Inwardly, Logan prayed to whoever was listening that they'd get to Xavier without Wanda crossing paths with them. Luckily, they reached the professor's office within minutes. ' _Chuck, you there?_ ' Logan called telepathically.

 _'Yes_ ,' came the reply. ' _Did you find Mr Maximoff?'_

' _Yeah, he's here. You better brace yourself, cos Scarlet's uncle has a hell of a story for you.'_ Without further ado, Logan knocked once on the office door, then pushed it open, gesturing for Django to enter.


	12. Chapter 12

Charles, his mind whirling from the words Logan had sent to him telepathically, a mere minute ago, rolled his wheelchair out from behind his desk as the Romani man- Django Maximoff- stood awkwardly in the doorway, clearly ill at ease in the office.

"Mr. Maximoff, I presume? Charles Xavier, founder and headmaster of this school." He said, extending his hand towards the man. He couldn't help but notice the striking similarities between him and Wanda; their eyes were rather close together, with a hard edge to them, along with the wary expression Mr. Maximoff held. Wanda wore the same one whenever she was uncomfortable, Charles noted. Their hair was identical, thick and curly, so dark it looked black. There was no denying they were related somehow.

Mr Maximoff's grip was strong, his hand rough in Charles': clearly, this was a man used to physical labor. “It is good to meet you.” He had a heavy accent, but his words were understandable enough. “I do not believe you can imagine how relieved I was to finally hear some news of the twins after so long not knowing...”

This was an opening that Charles had hoped for, and although he intended to be tactful, he did want answers. “Can I ask how it is that you know Wanda and Pietro at all, and that they are mutants?”

"I... Why wouldn't I know them? They're my niece and nephew. I raised them as my own for most of their first four years." Mr. Maximoff explained with a confused look.

Charles paused, staring up at the man. _He_ raised them? The telepath should've known this situation wouldn't have been as clear and cut as he hoped it would. He gestured for the man to sit before moving back behind his desk, wondering how to approach this. "So you raised them?"

Mr. Maximoff gave him a look. "Did someone say something otherwise?"

"You see, I used to be close with their father, Erik, wh—"

Mr. Maximoff laughed quietly and bitterly to himself. The action was so surprising to Charles that he genuinely found himself pausing, wondering why that answer would provoke such a response.

"Just as I thought." Mr Maximoff shook his head. "He told you that he had them their entire lives?"

"I... now that I think about it, not in so many words, if I am honest." Charles frowned. "He told me that their mother had passed and that she had died soon after giving birth to the twins. I inferred for myself that he had taken sole responsibility for Wanda and Pietro. Erik never indicated that it might not be so."

"Well get rid of that thought. He never raised those children. _I_ did." The man spat, face filled with anger.

Charles leaned back. "Then why were they in his care?"

"He stole them from me."

The telepath froze. In all the years he knew Erik, he understood the man was willing to get his hands dirty. Erik wasn't afraid to do something underhanded to accomplish his goals, but... to steal children? Even if they were his own, Mr. Maximoff was the one left in charge of them, not him.

Mr Maximoff met Charles' gaze, pain and guilt clear in his eyes. "My sister promised me that I would never allow Erik to see the twins, to even know they existed. I made a mistake, a foolish one, when he visited our home."

Charles' heart pounded. It was sickeningly plausible, for all he didn't want to believe that of his old friend, but, for the sake of protecting Wanda, he had to be _sure_. It felt wrong to immediately pry into Mr Maximoff's mind, however, so he cast his thoughts about for another way of establishing proof. "I am not saying I don't believe you-"

"Good, because I do not tell lies." Django folded his arms, his dark eyes narrowed.

"But as I am now Wanda Maximoff's legal guardian, you will understand that I need to be certain that any action I take regarding her family is in her best interests." An idea struck Charles, a simple enough way of determining if Mr Maximoff truly had known her in childhood, as he claimed. "When you had her in your care, what color were her eyes?" Wanda had heterochromia, dual colored eyes. If Mr Maximoff spoke the truth, he would be aware of that. (Some tiny part of Charles, that still wanted to think well of Erik, hoped the man would answer wrongly.)

"Her eyes were blue at birth, both the twins were. Pietro's remained that way. Wanda, by the time she was a year old, had one green eye and one brown. I assume that's still the case today."

Charles felt his heart sink. It was true, and now, there could be no doubt about who Django Maximoff was, that his story was true. What could he, what _should_ he, do now? "I apologise if I sounded... unconvinced. I knew Erik for many years, and despite our differences, he was my friend. To hear that he's done this..." Charles stated. There was no denying it, however, and he'd have to accept that everything he thought he knew about his former friend may have been fabricated as well.

"I met him when my sister brought him to meet our parents. He was cold, and I didn't trust him. Magda told us what he had been through, but something never sat right with me." Mr. Maximoff explained, staring down at his lap. "They ran off together, to Poland or Germany. Never sent a letter or visited. My parents were angry that my sister did this without their permission, and I was furious that I allowed this man to take her."

"Then why did Erik not raise the twins on his own? Why come back?" Charles questioned, trying to piece together the truth of all this.

"My sister came home one day, a few months after our parents died. She was a mess. I've never seen her like that before. She told me all these horrible things she had found out about Erik, about his agenda against humans."

Charles closed his eyes. That, unfortunately, made sense. "She was pregnant with the twins at the time." He didn't phrase it as a question, though it did cause another to rise in his mind. "She and Erik were never actually married, then?"

Mr Maximoff shook his head. "No, although, considering what happened, I am glad of that now." He sighed. "Magda was so afraid of what Erik Lensherr had shown himself to be that she begged me to move from our home, to find a new settlement. She was the only family I had left, so I obeyed her wishes. If I had not, I know she would have run off alone, and I wasn't going to lose her again." His eyes glimmered with tears. "She was my twin, you know, as Pietro is to Wanda."

"I... didn't know. My condolences, Mr. Maximoff. Raising the twins must have been difficult." Charles said to the man.

The human shrugged. "It felt bittersweet. The babies were not even two months old when we lost Magda. I loved the twins, they were of my blood. They thought I was their father, and I allowed them to think that. I didn't have the heart to tell them that their mother was gone, or that their father might want them dead." The choice of his words was interesting.

"Might?" The telepath pointed out.

"Wanda's mutant powers emerged when she was quite young. Magda told me it could happen, but it wasn't common. Pietro had not presented his, so..."

"You thought he wasn't a mutant like Wanda." Charles finished, hiding his shock at the fact that Wanda's powers must have manifested when she was only three years old, if not younger still- something else he hadn't been aware of.

The man nodded. "Magda told me he wanted to kill humans. When I woke and couldn't find either of them, I was worried that my nephew was going to be found in a ditch somewhere, that his sister was going to grow up alone."

Charles winced at that- little did Mr Maximoff know, his guesses weren't too far off the mark.

Of course, the man noticed, and his eyes narrowed. "What happened, what did he do to them?" He asked in a low tone. "I know there is something, from the way your workers spoke of Wanda, and now your eyes confirm it." His fists clenched. "I swear, if he hurt those children in any way..."

Charles raised his hand, trying to diffuse the situation. "Wanda's story is... complicated, and I don't feel it my place to tell you about it. She can do that, if and when she wishes, but I think you need to understand. She knows nothing of her mother's family. She only learned of her Romani heritage a few weeks ago, and I don't believe she has any recollection of her early years." He spoke more gently now, trying to soften this blow. "She has never mentioned you in any way."

Mr Maximoff visibly deflated, tears running down his suddenly paler face. "She doesn't remember anything, about her past, our family, our home?"

"Not that I am aware of. Miss Maximoff is rather reclusive and hasn't spoken to us much about herself." Charles answered. The man's head hung and Charles politely averted his eyes, allowing him a moment of privacy. He didn't understand how it would feel to be in this situation, but he could tell it was devastating for Mr. Maximoff.

"My dear girl..." The man whispered, wiping the tears away. Then, he looked up at Charles. "What of Pietro? Do you know?"

Charles remained silent. Tears welled in the human's eyes at the obvious answer before he hid his face in his hands. His shoulders shook for a few minutes, then he slowly composed himself. His voice was thick with emotion when he spoke.

"I understand that you will need to speak to Wanda first, let her know who I am before we meet, she will think me a stranger-" His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, blinking back more tears before meeting Charles' gaze, his eyes imploring. "But I beg you, please, do not ask me to leave her life again. I've searched all these years, I have to at least try and reconnect with her, if not with Pietro..."

"I had no intention of separating you two. My only fear is that Wanda may have a negative reaction to your presence. She's had... things kept from her before, and I'm worried how she'll react to this." The telepath explained, hoping that the man would not question the slight hesitancy. Thankfully he didn't seem to care, as he simply nodded with tearful eyes.

"Thank you, it... It's been a difficult time. I've traveled so far to find them and to have even one of them so close..."

Had the man not been a stranger, Charles might have offered a comforting touch at this point, so clear was his grief and pain. However, in this situation, all he could do was bow his head in acknowledgement. "I will need a day or so to think how to approach Wanda with this, but I give you my word, I will call you within the next three days and we can work out how to proceed with a meeting from there." He paused. "That said, it will need to be here, at the school, so I can supervise Wanda if needed. She- that is, her powers- can be quite volatile. Dangerous. And, for the moment, I would advise that only you, not your wife or children, take part in this initial meeting."

"Why not? Don't you think she should meet all of her family?" Mr. Maximoff questioned.

Charles shook his head. "It could potentially overwhelm her. She's in a situation where she will go from having no family at all to care for her, to suddenly having a large extended family. She may not believe you and given the history of her mutation, may accidentally harm your family." The telepath levelled his gaze with the other man. "As much as you want her to meet her family, Wanda is not ready for it. Give her time and patience and some day she may be able to."

Mr Maximoff did not look pleased. A surface scan of his mind- merely a precaution to ensure the man did not do something foolish- revealed that he thought Charles' attitude concerning Wanda and her powers to be overly cautious. He simply didn't understand how dangerous she could be. However, Mr Maximoff did eventually nod, and Charles exhaled in relief, thanking the man for his understanding as he 'called' for Logan to escort him back home- and hopefully, to ensure he and Wanda did not cross paths before he left the grounds.

They only waited for a moment before the door opened. Charles didn't think Logan would be so close to his study, but he dismissed the thought as he moved to be beside Mr. Maximoff, who stood from his seat. He kept 'watch' with his mind as Logan and Mr Maximoff walked to the front doors, tensing for a moment as Wanda and Rogue, deep in conversation about one of the Anne Rice novels they both enjoyed, passed the two men. Charles picked up a flicker of familiarity and curiosity from Wanda when she saw Django, but she wasn't paying too much attention, and to Charles' relief, the girls passed out of sight before Django got a good look at his estranged niece.

Once the two men were safely gone, the telepath sighed to himself, staring out the window of his study, considering all that he'd learned and wondering _how_ he was going to break it to Wanda.


	13. Chapter 13

Wanda was just heading back to her room after finishing helping Ororo clean up from breakfast (a chore that everyone took turns in doing) when she heard running footsteps behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Simon Williams half running towards her and tried not to sigh. She'd successfully avoided him for weeks now, ever since he'd made that crude comment in the gym: not an easy feat when you lived in the same building with the guy.

"Wanda! Wait up!" He kept following her, to her annoyance. It didn't seem like he'd give up anytime soon, and Wanda didn't want him chasing her around the school. She turned and faced her, an unimpressed look on her face as she crossed her arms.

"What?" She snapped, narrowing her eyes. "Got another comment about my body? Because Logan isn't around an—"

"What? No!" He said, holding his hands up defensively. "I didn't stop you to say that—Listen, I... I didn't mean to say that—"

"Didn't mean it? So you still thought about it?"

"Would you let me talk?" He shot back, frowning. "I've been trying to apologise to you for weeks now. Like, you are hot but—"

"Seriously, Simon?!" She felt stupid, honestly believing that the boy had changed. She'd heard from Jean that he rescued some kids from bullies, so thought maybe he wasn't all bad, but turns out he was just the same.

"Seriously what?!" He sounded annoyed now, and she couldn't believe it.

"This is your idea of an apology? Eyeing me up even as you say sorry you did it before?!"

"How am I eyeing you up?!" He shouted in response. Other students paused and started watching, obviously waiting a fight to break out between them.

Wanda forced herself to calm down, controlling her breathing. "I'm not going to explain myself to a _sexist_ pig that doesn't care about genuine apologies. When you actually gain some intelligence to see what you did wrong, _then_ come find me." She walked away, glaring at the younger blonde girl, Tabitha, she thought, who'd been listening and now whistled as Wanda stalked past.

“You tell him, Maximoff!” Tabitha called after her. Wanda didn't deign to reply.

When she got to her room, the first thing Wanda did was flop down on her bed, still seething at Simon's attitude, when she heard Xavier's voice in her mind, and tensed up- she still hated anyone in her mind, since the Mastermind thing. Not that she'd really liked people probing in her mind _before_ that, but it was worse now.

 _'Wanda, I hope you aren't busy?_ ' The Professor asked, his voice sounding hushed in her head.

She rolled onto her side, glaring at the wall. ' _Did you need something, Professor?_ ' She replied instead, ignoring the question. If he actually needed her for something, he could've come to her instead of invading her privacy like this.

' _Would you please come to my study whenever you're free?_ '

' _I'm free now._ ' She rolled to her feet and left her room, imagining a 'wall' in her mind and hoping that would keep him out. She was coming to see him like he wanted, so there was no need for him to keep talking to her in her mind: whatever he needed to see her for could wait until they were face to face.

By the time she reached his study, Wanda could only wonder what he wanted to talk about. They'd already discussed everything she thought was important, so she had no idea what this was about. She didn't bother knocking since he already knew she was coming, noticing the man sitting at his desk.

"Ah, Wanda, welcome." He said, as if he didn't know she'd be there.

"What is this about? I thought we went over the important stuff when I got here." She asked, deciding that she wasn't going to beat around the bush. He steepled his hands, looking at her seriously for a long minute. She squirmed, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Eventually, he let out a sigh.

"Please, sit down." He sounded so serious, more than usual, that a slight chill ran down her spine.

"What's going on?" Was he about to tell her that there was a problem, that _she_ was somehow a problem, and she had to leave the school? She didn't think she'd done anything to warrant being sent away, but then again, she hadn't way back when she was seven either...

"Wanda, I..." He shook his head. "You were right that we discussed all important matters that we knew of when you first came here, but since then... something new has come to light, concerning your past."

She blinked. _What?_ "I don't understand..."

"I know you don't like discussing your childhood, for good reason, but," he leaned forward slightly, his eyes intense, earnest, "I need to know. Is there anything you can tell me, anything you remember, of your life before your father entered it?"

"Before? No, I-I... He raised us since we were born, as far as I know. I didn't know there was a 'before'." Wanda shivered, suddenly feeling cold. "What do you mean?"

He paused and seemed to consider something. Wanda stared at him, feeling a hot burst of anger in her chest. What did he know about her that she didn't?

"You see... Wanda, there is something about you and Pietro that you were never told."

He knew how she felt about her brother. The fact he'd even mention him meant that this was something really serious. She kept herself calm, willing herself to listen instead of lashing out like she would've months ago.

"Erik didn't raise you or Pietro, Wanda. Not to begin with. Have you ever heard of a place called Transia?"

It rang a vague bell, but she couldn't say why, so she hesitantly shook her head. "No? I mean, I've heard the word somewhere- I think- it's sort of familiar, but I don't know where it is. What's it got to do with what you said, about Magneto not raising us?"

"It's the country the two of you were born in. You both spent your earliest years there. You truly don't remember anything about it?"

Wanda shook her head. "No... Am I supposed to?"

"No and I didn't really expect you to, Wanda. It would be difficult given the circumstances." Charles explained. "Do you truly not recall anything?"

She shook her head again, frowning. "No. If I did, don't you think I would have said something?" Something occurred to her and she sat bolt upright, skewering Xavier with her eyes. "You said this 'came to light recently'. How did you find this out? Who told you? How long have you known this secret about _my_ past before telling me?" The lights above their heads flickered, and Wanda had to take several deep breaths to rein in her powers.

"That... is more difficult to explain. Wanda, I'll need you to take a seat, listen to what I have to say, and _promise_ that you won't let your anger, and your abilities, get the better of you as I explain things. Can you do that?"

She stared at him, silent. She _wanted_ to know about her past, yes, but only when she was involved in all aspects of figuring it out. She sighed however and sat herself down. When she didn't reply, Charles took that as an invitation to continue.

"I was recently made aware that someone by the name of Django Maximoff lived nearby. Obviously, I wanted to make sure that this man was truly related to you before I told you the news, to make sure I didn't give you any false hope."

She stared at him. "And is he? Related to me, I mean." She didn't know if she wanted it to be true, but considering Xavier was having this conversation with her right now, she figured this Django had to be some kind of relative.

"Yes, I..." Xavier shook his head. "I was trying to break this to you gently, but I really don't think there's a way to do that. Wanda, Django Maximoff is your uncle, your mother's twin brother."

...What? She... She actually had living relatives? She never asked about her mother before she was put into the asylum. Honestly, she never even wanted to know. Still, hearing this...

"Are you sure?" She said, unable to stop herself.

Charles nodded. "I wouldn't have told you if I weren't. He confirmed something about you no one would have known unless they'd known you from childhood."

Wanda's hands trembled, and she was suddenly glad she was sitting down, because her legs felt shaky. "This man... he was the one who raised Pietro and I then?" Xavier hadn't said that, but it made sense. Out of nowhere, her habitual anger flared up. "Where was he when Magneto was treating us like child soldiers? Where was he when I got locked away?!" She'd never felt so torn: on the one hand, she had a living relative, who'd apparently cared about her at one point. On the other hand, he'd vanished from her life, left her with her monster of a father... "How come, if he was raising us, why'd he give us to _him_?"

"He didn't." He replied, and it was enough to snap her mouth shut.

"What?"

"Your uncle promised your mother you wouldn't be under Erik's care. You and your brother were never meant to be raised by him."

"Then why were we?"

"I'm afraid it's very simple. Erik tricked him, played with your uncle's grief and kidnapped you when he was at his most vulnerable."

Wanda knew he wasn't making that up. Magneto knew how to manipulate people, and if he couldn't, he'd enlist others to do it instead.

"Your uncle is just a human.” Xavier continued. “He couldn't rescue you even though I'm sure he wanted to. Erik was dangerous, he still is _,_ and Django had no way to know where he had taken the two of you."

Wanda literally _saw red_ as his words sank in. Her blood felt like it was boiling in her veins, and she was so angry she couldn't even form words. Her powers surged, and multiple things in the office began rattling, shaking, and in some cases, smoking. Magneto had _stolen_ her and Pietro from the first parental figure they'd known, against the wishes of their dead mother, ruined their lives, probably broken their uncle's heart, and then had thrown first her, and then Pietro, away anyway?!

"Wanda. _Wanda._ " Xavier was watching her worriedly, one hand on his temple, as if preparing to take control of her mind. "Calm yourself."

It took longer than usual, but she managed to still the turbulence of her powers, 'disconnect' them from her still-writhing temper. "How... how old were we when..." Her words came out a croak, like she wasn't even sure she wanted to hear this.

Charles pursed his lips. "The two of you were not quite four. It's why you don't remember it." He told her.

She leaned back in her chair, hands tightening around the arms. That young? She was manipulated when she'd been _that_ young? At this point she didn't even know what to think. She felt exhausted and wanted to pretend that none of this was real, that she could just wish it away. Instead, Wanda opened her eyes and stared at the Professor with a grimace. "Where is this uncle of mine?"

“He recently moved to Bayville. He wanted to see you immediately, when I spoke to him a few days ago, but I persuaded him to wait until I had spoken to you.” Here Xavier paused, and sighed. “Wanda... he is married now, though as I understand it, he was single while raising you and Pietro, and... he and his wife have two young children of their own. I wasn't sure whether or not to tell you this, but I think you've been deceived enough already.”

Children...? So... she had more family. The fact that he lived so close and she had never run into him seemed so upsetting. Someone who knew everything about her was right within her grasp and she never knew.

"He has children?" She asked instead, curious.

Xavier nodded. "A boy and a girl. They were actually the ones that Mr. Williams ran into, in the incident with the teenage boys in town. He stepped in to stop the children being harassed, and that is actually how your uncle first came to my attention. He asked Mr Williams if he knew of mutant twins around his age."

Simon's name shot a jolt of anger through her, but she ignored that for now. "Can... Does anyone know about them?"

"Do you mean if any mutant knows of them?" He questioned, and at her nod, launched into an explanation. "So far only Logan and Ororo know about them. I'm unsure if Erik knows your uncle is here."

The very thought of Magneto getting anywhere near two innocent humans with their own kids, strangers to her or not, made Wanda shudder. She tried to focus on the rest of Xavier's words instead. "Simon's seen them? And he didn't tell me?!"

"Mr. Williams didn't know they were related to you, Wanda. He only knew that your uncle shared the name Maximoff, which he informed me of. I understand that you are mad at him for other matters, rightfully so, but he had no way of knowing they were your family." Charles reprimanded, a stern look on his face.

"Still! He sh—"

"Wanda, I know you're angry, but don't take it out on other students who had no way of knowing the entire story."

Her mouth snapped shut and she glanced down at her lap. He was right, and she hated it. Yet still, Simon should've said _something_. There was another sigh from Xavier. "If you must know, I insisted he not tell you. Given the antagonism between you both, I feared you would take it the wrong way."

"Then why didn't _you_ tell me? Why wait for so long?"

"I told you. I wanted to make sure he was truly related to you before I said anything. What if I told you when I was first made aware, and it turned out he wasn't?"

She hated when he was right. Wanda remained silent in response, not sure what to say. "Does Pietro know about him?" She asked, even if it hurt to say his name. Although they were on bad terms, her brother deserved to know that _his_ father was truly worse than they knew.

"I honestly have no idea, Wanda. I wish I could give you a better answer than that." He paused. "I know you will probably want to tell him, and he deserves to know, that's true, but the risk to your uncle and his family, right now-"

"Pietro would tell Magneto straight away." Wanda realized, finishing the sentence for him, her heart sinking. As much as she wanted to try and reach out to Pietro, it was too great a risk right now. She flopped back in her chair, feeling as if all the energy had been sucked out of her. "So, what now? Does my uncle want to meet me still?" She shivered. "What have you told him about me, my past?"

"I told him very little. I wanted you to be the one to tell him that, not me. I did tell him that your brother was still with your father, and that you were as well until recently."

She nodded, leaning her head back against the chair and closing her eyes. Well, at least she was able to tell her uncle everything from her perspective. It was going to be hard, to tell someone all she had gone through, but that depended on if the man even wanted to meet her. "You didn't answer me, though." Wanda mentioned. "Does he want to meet me?" She couldn't see him, but she knew the air around the Professor lightened.

"He does. He actually wanted to meet you the day I brought him here, but I didn't think you were ready for that."

Her heart literally skipped a beat, and for a second she struggled to think: did she want to meet this man, or not? She honestly had no idea. To buy time, she thought fast, asking the first question that came into her head. "You said his name was Django Maximoff?” The name was totally unfamiliar, and that didn't feel right: if he'd raised her and Pietro for the first four years of their lives, shouldn't his name mean _something_ to her now? It was almost cruel that she and her brother shared the surname of the man they were stolen from. It was a miracle that Magneto hadn't changed that too! She snorted quietly under her breath as she leaned forward, glaring at the papers on the Professor's desk. "I... I want to meet him." She said. Her stomach felt weird, like she would throw up, but she needed to meet him. He knew things about her that she didn't.

Xavier regarded her carefully. “Are you sure?”

Wanda nodded shakily. “I am.” Her stomach churned. “Can you, I don't know, call him now so I don't lose my nerve?” If it was already arranged, there'd be no way she could talk herself out of it, no matter how nervous she was.

Xavier nodded, picking up the phone on his desk. However, he gave her a look as he dialed the numbers. "Are you sure you still want this?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm—I'm sure. Don't tell him I'm here, though."

He didn't say anything but he had a knowing look on his face. There was a silence before Xavier's demeanor changed, suddenly turning more relaxed. "Ah, good evening, Mrs. Maximoff. Is your husband available to talk?" She watched as the man paused, turning to look out the window. There was a moment where she wondered what was happening when Charles began to talk again. "Mr Maximoff, hello. It's Professor Xavier, from the Institute. I apologise for interrupting whatever you may have been doing, but I have good news for you." There was silence, and Charles glanced at her. "I have spoken to Wanda. She wants to meet you." Wanda wrung her hands, wishing she could hear what this Django was saying.

Xavier was nodding, then he frowned slightly. "I have to advise against that, I'm afraid. It would be best if you were to come here, and for the time being, it should be just you."

More silence. "No, I am not disagreeing that she should meet her whole family, but this has been a great shock to her, and at the moment, it should just be you that meets her. Yes, that _is_ what she has asked for." Another pause. "Very well. I can send Logan to collect you if you wish. Of course. Tomorrow afternoon. We will see you then. Of course, you're welcome." Xavier put the phone down, and Wanda swallowed hard, willing herself not to be ill. There was no going back now. Tomorrow, she'd be meeting her uncle for the first time in, what, fourteen years?

"What family did he want me to meet?" She questioned.

"His wife and children." Charles answered. "However, again, I don't think it'd be smart for you to meet them just yet."

"What if I want to?" She challenged. Honestly, she didn't, but she wanted to know why Charles was making decisions for her.

"I can tell you don't. You were unsure if you even wanted to meet your uncle, my dear. What would happen if you met _his_ family?"

She hung her head, not answering that. "But I'll have to someday, won't I?" Though god knows what two human kids, her cousins or not, would think of her. Not to mention their mom- her aunt.

What if he doesn't even want them to meet her after he learns what she went through? About who she was? As much as she felt anxious meeting him, Wanda still wanted to know her family. If he didn't want to see her after this... She inhaled shakily. Whatever happened, she'd have to meet her uncle tomorrow. She'd tell him exactly who she was, and he could decide from there whether or not he wanted her near his family. She told herself it didn't matter if he rejected her: as long as she learned everything she could from him about her past, and about her mother.

* * *

The next day felt as tiring as the previous one. Wanda had gone to bed anxious and antsy, unsure of how to even feel. Her stomach felt like it was eating itself with anxiety and she had barely gotten any sleep the previous night. She almost didn't go down to breakfast, not sure if she could handle any food, but she knew she'd regret it later if she didn't eat. She managed to force down some toast, not really speaking to anyone, and leaving the table as soon as possible. Only to run straight into Simon Williams in the hallway. She dropped her head into her hands, groaning. "Look, I am _really_ not in the mood for this right now."

She wanted today to be good. She didn't want to feel pissed off when she met with Django, but she couldn't handle Simon right now.

"Wait, can— Will you hear me out, please?" He asked, keeping his voice to a whisper. At least he had the decency not to embarrass her this early in the morning. She glanced at the few other students who weren't paying attention to them. Then, she turned back to the boy with a glare.

"You get five minutes, Williams." She snapped. He sighed in relief before gesturing for her to follow him. She frowned, but followed, though she was still wary. He went into one of the living rooms after checking it was empty, though he made a point of leaving the door open when Wanda stalked past him.

"Start talking." She told him, crossing her arms when he stood a few feet from her.

He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the gelled locks. "Okay, so, um. I realized how awful my apology was yesterday, and I—um—wanted to apologise. Properly, this time." He told her.

She had to battle with every cell in her body _not_ to roll her eyes and simply arched her eyebrow instead, frowning. This was exactly how yesterday started off and she didn't want another repeat.

"Like, I thought about what you said, and you... You're right. That wasn't a good apology, and I was still making comments about your appearance, even if I didn't think I was."

The tension in her shoulders lessened, the harsh look on her face softening.

"I talked with Miss Grey, and she yelled at me for like, two hours about why what I said was wrong. So, um— Yeah. I just wanted to say that again, I _am_ sorry for what I said. Miss Grey told me that you don't have to accept this or whatever, but I wanted you to know."

She stared him down for a few more minutes, then nodded. "OK. Apology accepted. As long as you don't speak to me like that again. Deal?"

"Yeah! I, uh, yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "To be honest, I thought you'd still hate me."

She shrugged. "I'm reconsidering it. Besides, remember those kids you rescued from bullies a few weeks ago? Turns out they're my cousins. I didn't know it then. So, thanks for stepping in."

Even though the purple glow of his eyes made it hard to see if he widened them or not, she could tell that he was surprised.

"Damn, really?"

"Yep."

"Damn... I thought it was cool they had your last name, but I wouldn't have guessed." He told her.

Oh. The Professor had been right. She cleared her throat before glancing at the floor. "I'll, uh, see you later. I guess."

"Yeah, sure. Um...." He went red. "I'll save you a seat at dinner. You know. If you want to sit by me. No pressure. You probably don't, but..."

"I'll think about it." She said, before leaving the boy alone in the room. She pretended not to see him flop down on one of the armchairs, a dopey grin on his face before she left though the sight made her lips twitch in amusement.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speech in italics is Romani. Tata is Romani for Father/Papa.

" _Tata! Are you really going to see her?_ "

Django heard the excited voice before he felt someone latch onto his leg. He glanced down, adjusting his jacket so he could see Mateo and his wide grin. His son had been the most excited when he heard that Django was soon going to meet the cousin he'd been hearing about all his life. He'd always wanted to meet her, completely enraptured by the stories Django would tell him about when she was just a small babe.

Django ruffled his son's hair, smiling down at the six year old boy as he nodded. " _I am._ "

" _Is she gonna come here? Is she gonna live with us? I hope she likes our home and she likes to play! We could play soldiers or something, like on TV!_ " The boy couldn't contain his excitement, talking in such a rapid tone that Django was having trouble understanding him. It made his heart ache, because he didn't know what to say to his son. The possibility of Wanda wanting to see him after this was slim. He was told that the girl was unsure about all of this, and if she didn't want to see him after today, than he'd had to respect that. It would hurt, yes, but Wanda was her own person now.

_”Little one, I don't know if Wanda will come to live with us. Remember, she doesn't know us yet. She will visit though, I'm sure."_

_"Tomorrow?!”_ Mateo was practically jumping up and down with excitement. " _Please, Tata?"_

Django chuckled. " _Perhaps, my boy._ "

Mateo didn't say anything else, instead running off to the kitchen, where his mother was preparing him and his sister lunch. As if Django's thoughts had conjured her, eight year old Ana came from the hallway, holding something in her hands. His little girl didn't express any clear dislike towards her cousin, but he hasn't seen her looking happy about today either. He knelt down to her height, smiling as she glanced down at the ground, suddenly looking shy.

" _What do you have there, my dear?_ " He asked, peeking around her shoulder.

She moved to hide whatever it was, a shy smile on her face. " _It's... It's for Wanda._ "

" _Oh?_ "

She thrust her hand out, offering a piece of paper to him. Django carefully took it, smoothing out the slight creases to look at it. It was of their family; himself, Ana, Mateo and Marya. She had included things she and her brother had liked as well as things they wanted to do with Wanda when she stayed.

_"This is beautiful, Ana. I'm sure Wanda will love it."_

Ana twisted her hands, biting her lip. _"Tata... Wanda was like your daughter once, wasn't she?"_

 _"Yes..."_ Django eyed his daughter worriedly. From her expression and her tone of voice, he could see something was wrong.

_"Do you love her more than me?"_

Django froze before he placed the drawing down and held his daughter's face. " _I will always love you more than I have ever loved myself, my girl. You are my flesh and blood. I may have raised her from when she was born, but she will forever and always be Magda's. I cared for your cousin Wanda as I would have my own child, because she needed it. My love for you will always be different from my love to her._ " He told her, before wrapping her in his arms. He held her close as his little girl hugged him back.

" _I don't want you to forget about me and Mateo._ " She quietly confided.

He held his daughter closer, dropping a kiss atop her head. " _I'd never forget you two._ "

She didn't say anything else, but she stepped away and fiddled with her hands, looking down at her socks. Django knew she would have never outright said it, but Ana was always scared that either him or Marya would leave them for one of the twins. He knew they had talked about them a lot when the children were growing up, but he had hoped they wouldn't view it that way. Mateo didn't, but Ana obviously did.

 _"Tata, can I come with you to meet Wanda? Please?"_ Ana's eyes were wide and beseeching.

Django's heart sank. _"Not this time, I'm afraid, sweetheart. But I promise, the next time I see your cousin, you will too."_ It was the best he could offer, considering that this Professor Xavier had been so adamant that this first meeting with Wanda only involved Django himself.

Ana's face fell slightly, but the girl perked up when she reached down and pushed the drawing against his chest. " _Give this to her then. I want her to know that Mateo and I want to meet her._ " She adamantly stated.

Django didn't think she'd take no for an answer, so with a chuckle, he took it from her hands and folded it up nicely so he could slip it into his pocket. " _Don't worry, I will._ " He promised her.

She gave him a look, but after a moment or so, nodded her head before heading into the kitchen when Marya called for her. Django turned to face the front door. Last time, he'd been collected by one of Xavier's staff but such charity had always stung, and he only accepted it when he absolutely had to. Now he knew where the Institute was, he could easily make his way there on foot. So why was he suddenly feeling hesitant? He knew he was scared of Wanda rejecting him, but he knew he shouldn't be that pessimistic about it. Wanda had said she wanted to meet him, so there was a high chance she may want to see him and meet his family in the future. Yet still... What if they went through all that and she didn't want to meet up again? Django sighed, feeling a chill run down his spine. That was the worst case scenario. Hopefully she wouldn't be too put off with everything he told her. Whatever lies her monstrous father had told her about him could be put right, he was sure. And he'd once sworn he would find the lost members of his family and reunite them all: simply knowing where one of them was didn't fulfill that obligation.

Squaring his shoulders, he called a goodbye to his family and left the house. Closing and locking the door behind him, just in case, he set off down the street, walking quickly. He concentrated on finding the way to the Institute, keeping his mind off the meeting that would happen once he got there. The streets he walked along were mostly deserted, at least of people. It seemed that, once again, people here would rather use their vehicles to travel than walk, even though the distance across Bayville wasn't that great, not compared to some places he'd lived; years ago in Transia, it had been an hour's walk just to get to the nearest town!

It didn't take him long to reach the gates of the institute, just under an hour. He wasn't sure if he should have called beforehand because he didn't see anyone waiting for him outside. He stood there for a few seconds, wondering how he was going to get in when the gates suddenly began to open. He looked around, wondering if they had something or someone watching the entrance, but quickly made his way through. He took a moment to collect himself when he reached the actual doors of the school, calming himself, and clenching his shaking hands in his pockets. "You can do this, Django." He told himself firmly before knocking on the door. In the few minutes between his knock and the door opening, his palms began to sweat and his heart pounded a thousand times a minute: at least, that was how it felt. A tall red-haired young woman he hadn't seen before greeted him by name, leading him inside. The journey to Xavier's study felt like it took forever, and yet, took no time at all.

"You can go straight in. They're waiting for you." The red-haired girl spoke gently. Django's stomach churned, but he managed to thank her, then, slowly, reached and pushed open the door.

* * *

Wanda stood beside Xavier's wheelchair, willing herself not to tremble. She'd come running into this office as soon as Xavier had 'called' to let her know her uncle was at the Institute gates. Now, however, she couldn't stop fidgeting. What if he didn't like her, or he did- until he learned just how messed up she was? She had tried imagining what her uncle would look like, had spent over half the night last night wondering if she would resemble him or if she would once again be an outsider.

However, the man across from her could pass for her father. They had the same hair, thick and curly, dark to the point it looked black. His skin was darker than hers, but otherwise their features were incredibly similar. He had a nose like hers, hooked and somewhat large and sharp eyes that were undeniably kind. She glanced at Xavier, who had been mostly silent since she'd entered his office. He gave her a look, a quiet opportunity for an escape but she shook her head and turned back to the man.

Her uncle nodded slowly, swallowing hard. His dark eyes were shining with tears and fixed on her like she was the only person in the room- or the world. "Wanda." His voice cracked. "You... you look so much like your mother."

She didn't know what to say. She had never seen an image of her mother, so she could only trust his word. Unconsciously, her hand touched her hair, twirling the dyed locks.

The man sniffed before composing himself, wiping away his tears. "I, uh, I doubt that Erik had ever showed you what she looked like. I brought this picture of her if you'd like to see..." He reached into his pocket.

Wanda felt her heart thud in her chest when he held a small, yellowed picture towards her. Her hand shook as she reached for it, carefully examining the image. The woman was young, possibly in her twenties but undoubtedly her mother. They looked so similar. She choked back an amazed laugh when she noticed how their hair was identical, untamed and wild. "I bet the red throws you off." She stated.

"I...In your hair? No, it... Red was always Magda's favorite color. Scarlet, specifically." Django explained.

"Really?" Even thinking that- that she had something in common with her mother- made a lump form in her throat. "I..." She didn't know what else to say. "What was she like?" The words came out almost of their own accord, and she could have kicked herself- she'd wanted to know more about Django before asking something like that!

He smiled wistfully. "Your mother was very rebellious. She didn't like to be held down and she liked to do whatever she wanted. Our parents thought it would be a phase, but she never grew out of it." He explained, apparently seeing no problem in talking about her mother. Wanda hoped he wasn't put off by it. This was the first time she had ever heard anything about her mother, and she wasn't going to let this opportunity go.

"She was kind, however. She always saw the best in people no matter what. Magda believed that everyone deserved a second chance, even if it seemed like they didn't." Django shook his head slightly at that.

His words immediately brought Magneto into Wanda's mind, but she crushed the thought: she wasn't going to let even the memory of her father ruin this, not now. "That sounds kind of like me. The rebellious part, anyway. Not sure anyone would call me kind, though." The words sounded lame to her, but Django smiled.

"You have not known me for long, so you were kind for allowing me to come here and see you. Magda would have been so excited to meet you." His face grew serious again. "Wanda, I've missed so much of your life. I'd like to know more about you, if you'll let me."

Xavier, who had remained silent until this point, cleared his throat, making both uncle and niece jump: Wanda had almost forgotten he was here! "You two can both take a seat, if you'd like." He wheeled himself away from his desk. "I wanted to be here for this introduction, for both your sakes, but I will give you some privacy now."

They nodded, awkwardly, watching as he left the room before they took a seat on either side of his desk, facing each other. "So, um... What do you want to know?" She asked, glancing down at her lap. She sounded awkward and felt so lame, but she didn't know what else to say.

Django hummed to himself before he perked up. "Do you still have your gift?"

"Gift?"

"When you were younger, you could do things no one else could do. You used to move things with your mind. Can you still do that?" He asked.

Oh. So that's what he was asking about. "I wouldn't call it a gift, but yeah. I don't know what you remember me being able to do, but I can still move things with my mind. I can also manipulate energy and stuff." Wanda tried to explain, except her mutation was still confusing to this day. She didn't really know exactly what she could do, so she tried to remember the simplest things she's achieved. “Most often, lights flicker and walls shake and crack. That's when my control falters, usually when I'm angry, so, you know,” she shrugged, managing a wry half-grin. “Quite a lot, considering what my temper's like.”

Django blinked, looking confused. “Temper?” He shook his head. “You were never any angrier than any other child...”

It was Wanda's turn to blink. For as long as she could remember, she had always, _always_ burned with anger inside, even when she didn't know why. It had been part of why Magneto had gotten so annoyed with her as a child. But apparently she hadn't always been like that? "I... wasn't?"

Django shook his head. "It was rather funny. When you were born, you were such a quiet baby. You never fussed like your brother, and sometimes I thought... When, uh, when you got older, you stayed the same. Yes, sometimes you had tantrums, but so does every child. You were no worse than any other toddler."

"...Really? Wow." She said, unable to stop herself. To hear that she was actually calm at some point in her life was strange.

"I never had trouble calming you down. You liked being held and having your back rubbed." He explained. "Do you... Have a bad temper now?"

She nodded. "I'm like a volcano. You don't know when I'm going to erupt and when I do, it's messy as hell."

He looked concerned, which wasn't new, but it was like he was concerned _for_ her, not because of her, which was... different.

"Your father caused this." Django spoke with such grim certainty, she wondered for a second if Xavier had told him about her past. But no, he'd promised that would be left to her. She stared down at her lap again, avoiding his eyes. She would have to tell him now, but what would he think of her afterwards?

"Wanda..." Django's voice softened, almost like he didn't want to upset her or something. "What did he do to you?"

She stressed her bottom lip between her teeth. Did she truly want to give him a full rundown of every single thing? Or did she want to give him a simplified version? He deserved to know but she didn't want his pity. "I... My mind was wiped. I can barely remember anything from when I was a small child. There are some years I don't like to think about,” All her time locked away, for example, “And I've had my memories altered against my will, on my father's orders, then restored by Professor Xavier, so lots of things are kind of blurry." She decided to leave it at that, skirting around the darker parts of her past. Django's hand clenched around the chair's arm. She looked at him, noticing the tightness of his jaw. He met her gaze and exhaled deeply before sinking back in his chair.

"I'm sorry, I'm... I'm just trying to keep myself calm right now."

Wanda didn't reply but nodded.

"And why, in god's name, did your father decide to do that to you? Wiping your memories, I mean."

Damn it. She should've guessed that would be Django's next question. Now what? "I... I was too dangerous. My powers were too unstable for him to handle. If I didn't remember anything, it would be easier for him to control me." She answered, again dodging the whole truth, about her childhood in that asylum, without actually lying. She hated remembering any of this, let alone talking about it, but it needed to be said. He deserved to know the type of person she was.

Django narrowed his eyes. "You know, your mother always used to squint a little when she was telling me half-truths as well." He folded his arms, watching her closely.

Her heart pounded, and, out of habit, she reverted to going on the offensive. "And where have you been since I was a kid?" She knew from Xavier that Magneto had stolen her and Pietro from Django when they'd been little kids but she wanted to hear Django's version of events: besides, it might keep him from demanding the whole story of her past. Django froze, and looked down at his lap. She knew she struck a nerve, but she didn't want to feel sad about it. He was obviously trying to get an answer from her that she wasn't going to tell him. She sighed. "You... You don't have to answer that, I'm just being...”

"I spent over fourteen years looking for you and your brother.” Django cut across her, his voice cracking with emotion, but determined nonetheless, as if he'd resolved that he would tell this story, no matter how painful it was. “When your father took you, I was overcome with grief. I had no idea where he had gone or where he had taken you. I spent so long wandering Europe, looking into every rumor and lead of a man with two children who never stayed in one place for long."

Wanda's mouth snapped shut, simply watching the man as he told his story.

"I met my wife during my search and forced myself to pause, to allow myself happiness. She understood my goal and she followed me across the world. We came to the United States, to New York, when I heard that large numbers of humans with gifts had been seen here. Gifted people, not like anyone else." He met her gaze. “Such a large number of mutants seemed like my best chance to track you down at last.” He sighed. "Wanda, I told myself I wasn't going to ask this, but... your brother. I know you're not close, and if I'm honest, that breaks my heart, because you two used to be inseparable, but.... can you at least tell me, is he well? Is he happy?"

The mention of her twin, her father's favorite, sent a stab of pain through her heart and she couldn't help but scowl. "I'm sure he's fine, running around being Magneto's- Erik's- errand boy as always." The words came out harsh, but then Django's words sank in and she almost laughed. "Pietro and I, inseparable?" He had to be kidding. "Even when we were kids, we didn't get along. He always wanted to please Fath- Erik, and I never even tried. We bickered over it all the time."

To her shock, it now seemed like Django was blinking back tears. "If only I'd kept my promise to Magda..." He'd barely murmured those words, but nonetheless Wanda heard him clearly.

"W-what promise?" Her heart pounded at the thought of learning something, anything, more about her mother.

Django rubbed his face. "Your mother made me promise her that no matter what, you two would grow up safe and loved. That you two would _never_ grow up in the so-called care of your father."

Wanda was reeling. She didn't really know what to say to him now. Yeah, she was angry that she could've have grown up differently, but she knew how Erik was. She knew how powerful that man could be, and her uncle was just human. Even if it hurt, she'd rather have her blood-relative alive than dead. "Listen, I don't know if this will mean much, but... I don't blame you? Like, you didn't cause this and you didn't hurt me." She explained. "If anything, I just hate Erik even more. I may not know much about you or what you were like when I was a kid, but you obviously cared for me and... my brother."

He nodded, swallowing hard, wiping his eyes before giving her a shrewd look. "Wanda... what was it you avoided telling me earlier? What happened in those years you say you'd rather not think of now?"

Wanda cursed silently. She had hoped he would forget this subject, or just drop it. Now what? "I—I just don't want to talk about it right now." She told him. It was hard enough to even think about it, so she didn't know if she wanted to ever _talk_ about it.

He nodded. "I won't push you, but... If you ever feel comfortable enough with me, I want to know. As much as you're willing to tell me, anyway."

"Um... Thanks, I guess." An awkward silence fell, neither seeming to know what to say or do now.

Django suddenly chuckled. "Oh! I almost forgot." He pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket and offered it to Wanda. "My daughter, Ana, your cousin, drew this for you." Slowly, she reached for it and carefully opened it. She knew it wouldn't be automatically destroyed, but she couldn't help but cradle the paper like it was her lifetime. The drawing wasn't the best, but she didn't care. It was a child's drawing of four people. Two of the figures were drawn with more precision. They had the names 'Ana' and 'Mateo' above them. Wanda guessed that Mateo was Ana's younger brother, given how much smaller he was to the others. There was some crude writing beneath the stick figures in a language she couldn't make out that well.

"Um, what does this mean?" She asked, pointing to the words under their names.

"Ah, it's Romani. I don't think I told Ana that you don't speak the language." Her uncle explained. "That there means 'I have 3 dolls' and that means 'yellow is my favorite color'."

"What about for... Mateo?" Wanda hoped she was pronouncing the name correctly. Her baby cousin... one of two she hadn't known she had...

"Hm... Ana wrote that he's the baby, and that he likes playing outside."

Wanda couldn't help but laugh, even as her red-painted nails caressed the paper like it was precious. "Do they... do they read English at all? I could write back, if you think they'd like that..."

Django looked surprised but quickly nodded. "They can't speak it well, but Marya and I have been teaching them to read it. Mateo would be delighted to know you wrote to them."

"...Would Ana like it?"

"She would. She wants to meet you. They both do."

Butterflies erupted in Wanda's stomach. "Really?" She honestly couldn't imagine anyone wanting to meet her, not counting her uncle. He was family, of course he'd be interested in her- although that might change once he knew the whole story. And the kids, her cousins, were too young to know better. But his wife, her aunt... would she trust Wanda with her kids?

"We could barely get Mateo to go to bed last night from how excited he was about today. He kept talking about it all morning and he wasn't even the one coming!" Django joked, a broad smile on his face. Her uncle looked genuinely happy talking about his children and something in her wanted to know more. She needed to know if she actually had a chance of having a family. Her hands tightened slightly around the drawing.

"And... Marya, was it?"

"My wife? What about her?"

"Does she want to meet me?"

Django's smile fell but quickly became softer as his hand reached out and touched the arm of her chair. "Of course. Marya has been with me for all these years. She knew from the start that I was looking for you and your brother. She _wants_ to know my family, just like I got to know hers."

Wanda nodded shakily. "Were you thinking of us all meeting soon?" If she was honest, the thought made her feel panicky, but also... kind of excited. What would it be like, to spend time with a real family? Loving parents, cute kids... She'd never had that kind of experience, ever. But the thought of Marya, her aunt only by marriage, not blood family... it made her uneasy, for some reason. "Could... Could I meet your kids first? I'm not trying to be mean to your wife, but—I don't know..."

"Don't apologise, Wanda. Marya will understand if you don't want to meet immediately."

She nodded. "I don't know how soon I could handle it, but I'd like to meet Ana and Mateo if possible."

Django looked pensive for a moment. "I usually take them to the park on Saturday mornings, so Marya has some time to go shopping. You would be welcome to join us this weekend..."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't a lot of information about Simon Williams' parents in the comics, so the story told in this chapter is invented entirely by the author Ilya_Boltagon. Please don't interpret it as true Marvel canon! 😉
> 
> Speech in italics is Romani.

Wanda took a deep steadying breath, willing the butterflies in her stomach to settle down, with little success, as she tried to focus on what Simon was saying as they walked. Honestly, she couldn't remember when she'd started thinking of him as Simon, instead of referring to him as Williams, but she had to admit, he wasn't as bad as she'd initially thought. They'd been sitting together for some of the group meals at the Insitute lately, and she'd found that behind all the swagger and attitude, he was kind of a nice guy. Not that she had any plans to tell him that, she had a reputation to keep. But his offering to walk with her to the park where she was meeting Django and being introduced to her little cousins Ana and Mateo was a comfort, keeping her from being too nervous and possibly fleeing. She needed to do this, she knew that, but... she wasn't finding it easy.

“Hello? Earth to Wanda, do you read me?” Simon's hand was waving in front of her face, and he laughed when she jumped in shock, but there was nothing malicious in his voice. He sounded... understanding, almost.

"What? Yeah, get your hand away." She said, lightly slapping it. Simon knew she wasn't actually annoyed with him, and kept laughing, giving her a mock expression of offense. When she shook her head, he just laughed again before shoving his hands into his pockets. When she looked down at the ground, kicking a small rock with her boot, he nudged her. "You sure?" He asked. She sighed before nodding. "Just feeling... Anxious, I guess."

He hummed and didn't say anything else, but she could sense that he did understand.

"It's just that— What if they change their minds? Like, it's not like I care that much about their opinions if they were anyone but... They're my uncle's kids. I _want_ them to like me, you know?"

Simon sighed heavily. "I'm not really one to ask about healthy family relationships, if I'm honest. My mom and I used to get along great, but my dad... he's very strict. Controlling. We haven't seen eye to eye in a while and he's not fond of mutants, so when it came out I was one.... he wants nothing to do with me and my mom... she loves him. I know she's torn, but..." He shrugged, pulling on the fake smile that Wanda hated. "Guess that's just life sometimes."

"Thanks for telling me." She told him, tugging her jacket tighter. "I mean it." And she did- his situation sucked. Crappy dads, she knew _all_ about, but having a mom who wanted to contact you and couldn't... (though, if she was honest, she thought Mrs Williams could've found a way to contact Simon if she really wanted, but then again, she didn't know the woman, or her husband, so what did she know?)

Simon shrugged. "It's just like that."

She snorted, even though it wasn't funny. The longer she thought of it the more she laughed until they had to stop in the middle of the sidewalk, the girl practically bent over holding her stomach. Simon was staring at her with a concerned look even though his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, probably thinking she was crazier than he originally thought. By the time she got it out of her system, people were looking in their direction and Simon was tugging at her arm for them to move.

"Um, wanna tell me what that was about?" He prompted the moment they started to walk.

"I... Have no idea?" She answered, voice sounding lighter than it has in months. "It's just— How have we gotten so used to this? So used to... Being hated?"

He let out a bitter laugh at that. "I don't know, man. I've only been a mutant for like... A few months now."

"Yeah?"

"Okay, well, nearly a year but still." He shook his head. "Doesn't it ever get easier? People will get used to us in the end, surely?"

Wanda snorted softly at the thought. "Xavier likes to think so. Me... I just don't know." Checking her watch as an excuse to glance away from him, she cursed. "Damnit, Django said they'd only be at the park for the morning, and it's already 10.30!"

Simon grabbed her hand, barely giving her time to understand what was happening when he started running.

"Simon!" She yelled, picking up her feet so she wasn't just being dragged. "What the hell!"

"What?" He said with a bright grin. "We'll get there faster!"

"Could give me a little warning!" Wanda snapped, yanking her hand away from him. Simon just laughed in response, easily outrunning her as they dashed down the street. She cursed under her breath, not really used to doing this at all. Still, he was pulling ahead of her, and she knew him well enough by now to know he'd brag about this for weeks if he won, so she gritted her teeth, running faster to catch him, with little success. Eventually, her breathing became ragged and she decided cheating was in order: a flick of her fingers sent a tiny hex bolt in his direction and he stumbled over his suddenly-untied shoelaces, allowing her to get a lead on him.

She found herself laughing as he yelled "No powers!" indignantly while chasing after her, but then came to an abrupt halt when she realized she'd reached the park gates and could hear kids laughing. Were the voices those of her cousins? She felt him come up beside her, panting as he tried to catch his breath.

Simon mock-swatted at her, obviously intending to miss, so she stayed still. He shook his head. "Can't believe you cheated! Honestly, I was being nice and you— What's wrong?"

Wanda started, her head snapping towards him. "What?"

"You were just staring into the park. Is something wrong?" He asked.

"I... No, I just... Heard kids playing. Thought they might have been my cousins." She answered.

Simon's hand raised like it was going to clap her on the shoulder but stopped before it did. Awkwardly, he nudged her in the arm. "Go in and see." His voice was gentler than usual..

Her heart rate quadrupled. "I..."

"Look." Simon stepped in front of her, resting a hand gently on her shoulder. "Take it from me, having family that wants to and is able to be with you is a hell of a lot better than the alternative." Despite his eyes still being hidden behind sunglasses, Wanda suddenly got the feeling he was genuinely hurt by what he'd said about his own parents. "You've got the chance to have a family now. Don't waste it." Stepping back, he caught one of her hands, squeezed it gently, then let go. "I'll see you later. Go on."

Wanda took a slow step towards the gates, gulping hard. Part of her wanted to ask Simon to come with her, but that was a coward's way out, and besides, like he'd said, this was her family. She needed to do this. Anyway, when she glanced back, he was already walking away, although he did glance over his shoulder and give her an encouraging wave (which made her go red in the face for some reason). Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the park, which thankfully wasn't too busy, and scanned the area, looking for Django.

Thankfully he wasn't hard to find, sitting on one of the benches beside the playground. He hadn't seen her, too focused on watching his children, who were messing around with this weird toy. Wanda breathed to herself, closing her eyes before forcing her feet to move. She stopped beside the bench and cleared her throat, awkwardly waving when Django turned towards her.

"Um, hey." She said, feeling dumb at using such a lame greeting. The man perked up, smiling broadly. Quickly, he stood from his seat, moving to hug her but paused and carefully held out his hand. God, did she seem so unapproachable that no one would touch her? Wanda pushed his hand aside and hugged him. She wasn't used to feeling of arms wrapping around her that didn't have any malicious intent and was just because they were happy to see her. Still, she said nothing as Django held her close before pulling away slightly. "Wanda! I'm so glad you made it!"

Her eyes burned at the clear happiness in his voice- when was the last time someone had been _that_ pleased to see her?- and she tucked some of her chin-length hair back behind her ears to give her hands something to do. "Thanks, I... I'm glad I came." She glanced over at the kids- Ana and Mateo, both of whom were oblivious to her arrival, too busy playing. "Do they... did you tell them I was coming?" She knew she should probably be politer, have a longer talk with Django, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

"They know, they're just busy with that little game up there. They won't even notice you calling their names unless you drag them away from it." He joked, motioning for her to sit down with him.

Wanda nodded, suddenly feeling out of place as they watched the children play. "They do that to you?"

He nodded. "Marya once told them that she was going to leave them here and they didn't even react." He explained with a soft laugh.

Wanda couldn't help but smile slightly. She glanced at him curiously. "Would they notice if I stood behind them?"

Django paused before giving her a knowing look. "I won't let you tease my children."

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "I wasn't going to do _that_ , honest."

Ironically, as if to prove his words concerning them wrong, both children came running over, chattering away- or arguing, Wanda couldn't tell- in what she assumed was Romani. She didn't understand a word of it, of course, but Mateo reached Django first, and one word he kept saying, Tata, struck a nerve. It meant nothing to her, and yet it was so _familiar_...

Ana, meanwhile, hung back, arms folded over her chest as she stared at Wanda with a skeptical look. "Who are you?" She asked, spoken slowly with a thick accent.

Wanda was somewhat surprised by the suspicion in her voice but awkwardly waved at the girl. "I'm Wanda."

That made the girl pause. The suspicious look was gone, replaced by shock and surprise. "You are cousin?" She asked. However, she scowled before speaking slower. "Are—Are you... our cousin?"

Wanda nodded. "Yes." She found herself almost holding her breath: she really wanted this meeting to go well, for these kids, some of her only family, to like her. "And you're Ana, right? It's nice to meet you."

Mateo, who had been deep in conversation with Django, finally seem to catch up on what was going on and who Wanda was, but his reaction was the opposite of his big sister's: he let out a squeal of pure delight and _flung_ himself at Wanda, wrapping his arms around her tightly as if she were his long-lost best friend. "Cousin Wanda!"

She froze, glancing down at the boy who was talking rapidly in a jumble of Romani and English. Was she supposed to hug him back or what?

Mateo didn't even seem to notice that she wasn't reacting, going on about something that only he knew.

" _Ah, my boy, is this how you act around people you just met?_ " Django said, speaking Romani, tapping the boy on the arm.

Wanda had no idea what he said, but she could tell it was playful. Mateo pulled away, a small pout on his face. _"No..."_ He whispered before drawing away from her.

"It's fine!" Wanda said, looking at Django. "I was just surprised."

"Are you sure? I can tell them to not crowd you." He asked with a concerned expression. She was happy he was being considerate of her, but she didn't need to be _babied_.

"He's fine." Acting impulsively, she knelt so she was closer to Mateo's height. "Hi, Mateo." She held out her arms, hoping she wasn't crossing a line somehow, not wanting to upset the little boy. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."

Another explosively cheerful jumble of Romani and English began, and Mateo hurled himself at her again. This time, she hugged him back. It felt... weird, but not bad, to have someone this young trust her so much. He was still chatting away, but the only words Wanda understood were her own name, Ana's, the word 'Mama', which was obvious, and that so-familiar word again, Tata....

"Tata..." She murmured, half to herself. "I know that word..."

Django hummed, a sad look to his face. "It means papa, in Romani. You used to call me that."

"I did?"

"You and Pietro weren't aware that I was just your uncle and I never stopped you." He explained.

"Did I know any Romani back then?" She inquired, curious to know if she actually learned the language before _that_ was taken from her too. Mateo was still talking, but she tuned him out when Django nodded as he gestured for Ana to come over. He held his daughter close, smiling when she sat on his knee.

"It was the only language you knew how to speak. You didn't understand English, and I never thought to teach you."

"Oh..." She felt lost, adrift, not knowing how she should be feeling right now.

"Do... Do you not know any?"

"Any what?"

Django pursed his lips. "Do you not remember anything of Romani language?”

A shiver ran down her spine, and a feeling like a weight dropped in her stomach. There was only one answer, but she didn't want to hurt or disappoint her uncle, as the truth surely would. She couldn't look him in the eyes as she mumbled "No." _Why_ she didn't remember was bugging her. Obviously, her memory was a mess, thanks to Magneto and Mastermind, but to forget every word of the first language she'd ever learned.... She knew she was young, yeah, but she had to remember _something_. Even if Magneto forced her to learn English, there should be something in her memory. She didn't know if she was making any particular face, but Django's hand rested on her shoulder and he smiled reassuringly at her.

"It's alright, my dear. If you like, I could teach you some words?" She nodded, but didn't say anything else about it. Mateo looked up at her and asked something, pulling at her sleeve. She looked to Django, hoping he caught whatever the young boy said. The man laughed at the wide-eyed look she wore before repeating it in English.

"He wants to know if you'd like to play on the seesaw. It's his favorite thing here."

She couldn't help but smile as she nodded. Mateo's responding grin was brighter than an August sun, and he grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him eagerly. Ana trailed behind them, her head down. With some amusement, Wanda considered how long it had been since she'd even been near children's play apparatus like this, let alone made use of it- almost eleven years.

When they reached the see-saw, she helped Mateo climb on (after an awkward moment where he'd held his arms up and she had to work out what he wanted). Ana, to her surprise, pushed past her, going to climb on the other end of the see-saw herself, her young face set.

"Um... What now?" Wanda asked, waiting for a response until she realized they probably had no idea what she said. Mateo simply sat smiling at her, but Ana seemed to have some idea what she said. She pointed at her brother, mimicking going up and down before wrapping her arms around herself.

"We move, but you hold." Ana explained as best as she could, but Wanda caught the gist of it. She walked behind Mateo and tried to figure out exactly how to hold him. She wasn't just going to sit on it with him; the boy seemed to have that down. Instead, she carefully held him in place with her powers, a faint trail of red hovering around the seat. She had never used her mutation for this purpose, but... It didn't hurt to try, right? She watched the see-saw begin to move, with Ana's slightly longer legs doing most of the work, while she concentrated on keeping Mateo on the seat. She did wonder if she was meant to be doing the same for Ana, but the eight year old seemed to be holding on tightly without help. She was so focused on not screwing up and accidentally hurting either of her cousins that the color of the glow around her hands and the seat didn't register at first.

When it did, she started, staring. _Red_? But... the glow of her powers had been blue, for as long as she could remember... why would it spontaneously change now? She doesn't remember doing anything different with her mutation, so there was no way that she had done anything to change it. She hadn't even been in any fight with any other mutant in the longest time. Wanda had been too focused on it that she didn't realize the glow disappeared from around the seat, only coming to when Django called (in English) to Mateo to be careful, as he nearly slipped from the seat. Quickly, she grabbed the boy by the shoulders, righting him when Ana yelled something in Romani, probably scolding her for not paying attention. Django said something to the young girl in the same language, but Wanda was beginning to feel a headache coming on just from trying to understand them.

Carefully, she placed Mateo back in the 'hold' of her still-red hex power, making herself pay attention. However, she did remind herself to investigate this change later and to talk about it with Mr. McCoy or the Professor. For now, she physically kept one arm around Mateo, not trusting her powers alone to keep him safe. He didn't seem to care, still laughing with delight as Ana worked the see-saw. Shaken at what she'd almost done, Wanda turned to Django. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that..."

"What do you mean?" He asked. She stared at him confusedly, wondering what there wasn't to understand. Did he not notice? She knew her mutation was somewhat noticeable, especially when it encased something, but she never really cared to notice before. "Oh! You mean about Mateo? It's fine. Sometimes he'll fall but he just gets right back up." He told her.

She looked down at the boy, who didn't even seem that fazed that he almost fell off. Wanda wondered if she should explain what she really meant but decided not to, keeping it to herself. Her uncle didn't really seem all that fazed by mutations, but who knew what he thought when his children were brought into the equation.

Mateo babbled something, gesturing at Wanda, then at Ana who was still sitting on the seesaw. The little girl frowned, shaking her head, but Mateo repeated himself insistently. Ana pouted, looking at Wanda. "Mateo wants you on seesaw now."

Wanda hesitated, eyeing the small proportions of the thing. "I think I might be a bit big...."

"Tata does sometimes." Ana's statement sounded almost like a challenge, and for a moment, Wanda was reminded of herself. She huffed, keeping herself from sticking her tongue out at Ana as she grabbed the little boy and lifted him off. Mateo giggling when she sat him down and sat on the seesaw herself, happily chattering about something as he ran behind her.

"What are you doing?" She asked with a small smile, turning to look at him. She felt his hands against her back, pressed there firmly.

"So you don't fall." Ana answered for him.

Well, that was just adorable, Wanda thought to herself. Since she was the bigger of the two, Wanda pushed herself up, laughing slightly when Ana suddenly went down. The girl pouted before she quietly began to laugh to herself, pushing at the ground to do the same. Carefully, so she didn't accidentally hit Mateo, Wanda lowered herself down. There was an ache in her chest when Ana began to freely laugh when she was in the air, hands clenched tightly around the handles as her feet kicked at nothing. Had she ever had fun in a park like this? Maybe, years ago, in... Transia, was it, Xavier had said? But not once since then. Well, even if she couldn't reclaim this kind of innocent childhood play, she could make sure her cousins enjoyed it, right?

Grinning slightly as an idea struck her, she moved just enough to lower Ana's end of the seesaw, then sat back down again quickly. She did it again, and again, causing a stop-start effect and soon Ana was in peals of laughter. The game continued for some time, both girls eventually laughing.

"Ah, Wanda! I didn't realize the time!" Django called, pulling her from the moment. She stopped and looked at him curiously, ignoring Ana who was saying something while trying to make the seesaw keep moving.

"Huh?"

"Ana has to go get her check-up done in about twenty minutes. The children and I have to go now to make it on time." He explained.

Had _that_ much time passed already? She was glad that she got to play with her cousins, but she barely got to talk with them. It didn't matter that she wouldn't have understood them, she just wished that she could have learned more. Shooing Mateo back, Wanda got off the seesaw without thinking, causing Ana to practically thump to the ground. "Oh, shit!"

She rushed over to the girl while Django stood from the bench. She reminded herself to apologize for the language, but right now she was more concerned with making sure her cousin wasn't hurt. She knelt down, touching the girl on the shoulder, ready to ask her if she was okay when it felt like liquid fire shot through her hand. She pulled away, hissing at the pain just as Ana did. The little girl glanced where Wanda touched her, looking up at her with wide eyes. "Did you do that?" She asked.

"Is something wrong?" Django asked as he came up beside them, holding Mateo's hand.

“I, uh... I'm not sure.” Wanda stared at her own palm, expecting to see a burn, but there was nothing there, only phantom pain. “I don't know if my powers did something...” The thought made her blood run cold. “Are you hurt?” She asked Ana, speaking slowly.

Ana shook her head, but her eyes were fearful. “I saw... big hill. Mountain. It saw us.”

Wanda stared at her, unsure of what she even meant. "A... What?"

Django crouched down beside Wanda, peering at Ana with a concerned look. He said something to her, probably asking what she meant, so Wanda stood and tucked her hands into her jacket. This was _exactly_ why she shouldn't have come. No matter what, she always ended up hurting someone. It didn't matter who or why, but that she _did_. Wanda could feel herself getting antsy, something tingling in every part of her body. She forced herself to breathe, closing her eyes as she blocked everything out. It was barely helping, but at least she didn't feel like she needed to run away.

"Wanda?" She started, eyes snapping open when she heard her name. Django was standing now, Ana huddled close to him with her brother, except she was staring down at her shoes.

"I-Is she okay?" The _did I hurt her?_ went unsaid, but Django seemed to understand that's what she was getting at. The man shook his head, running his hand through Ana's hair.

"She's fine. She thinks it's from a nightmare she's been having." But then why did Wanda feel a reaction? She felt like there was something he wasn't telling her but decided not to push it. Instead, she knelt down to look Ana in the eye. "I'm sorry." Even though Django claimed she wasn't to blame, she couldn't shake the belief that, as usual, she'd done _something._ "I have bad dreams too." She admitted to Ana in a whisper, hoping at least that the shared 'secret' might make her cousin feel better. "It's not nice, is it?"

The girl shook her head. "They scare me."

Wanda knew the feeling. She wasn't going to go into graphic detail with the girl about how her nightmares made her feel, but Ana needed to know she wasn't alone. "I get scared too. So scared I wish I had someone to comfort me."

"I go Mama and Tata. They help." Ana told her- she clearly understood English better than she spoke it- before she suddenly leaned towards Wanda, a determined look in her eyes. "If you scared, think of me. I will do the same."

Wanda laughed slightly, amazed by how fierce her cousin seemed. She held her hand up and stuck out her pinky, remembering something about that. She'd seen younger students do it all the time, so it seemed fitting. A 'pinky-promise', she thought it was called. Ana thankfully knew what it was, giggling as she wrapped Wanda's pinky with her own. The odd sensation was back again the moment they touched, but far less painful than it was before. Now, it just seemed like a dull heat. Honestly, she wouldn't have even noticed it if she wasn't so shaken up from before. For just a second, it almost looked like there was a faint red gleam in Ana's eyes. Wanda blinked and it was gone. _Probably just a trick of the light._ She told herself, as Django cleared his throat, a subtle reminder that he and the children had to leave.

She stood, backing away from them. "Uh, so, that was really fun." Wanda said to Django, awkwardly smiling at her uncle. "I had fun playing with them."

"I can tell. Mateo wants to come back here with you again, he was telling me about it." Django told her, ruffling his son's hair.

Mateo grinned up at Wanda, waving rather excitedly. "Bye-bye!"

She laughed to herself, smilingly happily at the boy as she waved back. "Bye-bye, Mateo!" That seemed to be the only word he definitely understood in English, as he began giggling rather cutely as he buried his face into Django's jacket. She looked at Django again, nervously. "Can I, uh... join in again next weekend?"

He nodded. "Of course! Did you want to meet here again or somewhere else?"

Wanda thought about it. She wouldn't mind coming back, but whatever happened earlier made her feel uneasy. "...The mall? We can go there." She offered.

Django looked pleased. "I'll have to ask their mother, but I think that should be alright."

Wanda smiled at both children. "Would you like to go to a mall?" Mateo, of course, didn't understand, but grinned and nodded anyway.

Ana looked puzzled. "What's a mall?" She turned to Wanda, eyes bright and curious. Wanda blinked, not sure how she could explain, especially with Ana's limited grasp of English. Thankfully, Django answered for her, speaking in Romani, and Ana seemed to understand and nodded too. "I want to go to mall, yes." She told the older girl.

Wanda nodded. "Maybe... next Sunday? If you're free, that is."

Django looked thoughtful. "I don't know if anything is planned that day, but we can make it work."

She nodded. "Do you want my cell number? My phone, I mean. So we can firm up arrangements later?"

Django's brow furrowed. "Cell... oh, you have one of those small phones with no wire. Of course." He nodded.

Too late, Wanda realized his words probably meant he didn't have a cell of his own, only an old landline in his home, and she flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, um... Do you think you could memorize my number or something? Sorry, I thought—"

"It's fine, I can remember it." He told her. She told him the number, nodding in confirmation when he repeated it back.

"I'll, uh, see you then? Or, you know, you can call me. If you want..." Again, she felt awkward, like she was messing up somehow.

Django smiled warmly, quickly giving her another hug before stepping back. "See you next Sunday, Wanda." He said to her, while taking Ana and Mateo's hands. She watched him and her cousins leave, with calls of 'Bye!' from the two children.

Wanda simply stared after them in silence, biting her lip until they disappeared from view. Then, once she was positive they were gone, she went to the bench and all but collapsed on it, holding her head in her hands, feeling totally drained. Was a real family meant to be such hard work?


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events of this chapter take place at the same time as the previous chapter, this is just a catch-up with Pietro.

It was strange how used he was to being known as a sole Maximoff. Pietro frowned to himself as he ran through the obstacle course Father had him training on. He'd been a twin his whole life, obviously, but he'd spent so long without his sister that he'd gotten used to being 'the' Maximoff. He'd been out of sorts, jarred, since he learned from Father that he had an uncle still living who also bore that name. Not to mention (according to Father) said uncle hated mutants.

Everything was fine when the others thought he was the only child. It made things easier. The only son of Magneto, the only being on Earth that could run faster than the speed of sound. He didn't need to wonder if the others in the Brotherhood feared him, they _did_ , even if they argued back with him. His word was valued above theirs and that all that mattered. Well, until Wanda showed up. When he was younger, Pietro didn't think he despised his sister as much as he did now. She was the only other child he knew, so it was obvious that they were close. Then her mutation got worse, until she was practically unmanageable and Father sent her away. He dodged one of the walls that suddenly jerked in front of him, stepping to the side with ease. He understood that Father did that for a reason, to protect them, and he should be thankful. He _was_ thankful. Just as he had understood, when Father had had Wanda's memories altered, it had only been to ease the pain she felt, to keep her from hurting herself and others.

He cursed Lance silently for letting her go when she'd remembered the truth, but honestly, he was angrier with Wanda. If she'd just waited and listened, let him or Father explain, she would have understood Father's reasoning. But no, hot-headed as always, she'd just jumped ship to Xavier without a backward glance! Pietro told himself he didn't care, but Father was angry still. He hadn't made a move to reclaim her- yet- but Pietro's punishment for not keeping closer track of the memory modification failing was 200 hours of training, which he had, thankfully, almost completed now. He was glad that his stamina had been greatly enhanced when his mutation emerged. He could go a very long time without feeling tired, but he'd started to feel his muscles aching almost an hour ago. Pietro ignored it, jumping over one of the obstacles with little difficulty. Sabretooth was in earlier, overseeing his training—if you could even call it that. The older man just made comments the entire time that Pietro quickly tuned out. He hated the man and wished his father placed him elsewhere, but he knew his mutation was too valuable to be sent away.

However, he noticed Father come in and say something to the beast-like mutant, which made him leave and left Father in his place. Only then did he take his training more seriously. Pietro didn't know what his father was thinking, but he had learned how to tell how the man felt by body language. At the moment, his father seemed irritated, and Pietro hoped that it wasn't because of him.

He tried to ignore the weight of Father's stare, burning into the back of his head, and focused more on clearing and dodging obstacles with more speed. He finished the course with a graceful backflip (sometimes it was just fun to show off, sue him) and then dashed over to stand before Father, hands folded neatly behind his back, waiting for Father's criticism of his performance.

His father didn't say anything at first, eyes simply staring him up and down. He knew not to speak yet, not until Father did.

"Your stamina has clearly gotten better, but not good enough. You slowed down towards the end and merely dodged the obstacles. I expect you to destroy what you cannot get past." His father said, face blank. "No one is going to see your gymnastics if you're lying dead on the ground."

Pietro felt his body burn with shame but held himself high and nodded. "Thank you, Father." Pietro told him, keeping the criticism in mind. He _would_ get better and become stronger until Father could only give him nothing but praise.

"There's nothing to be thanked for."

God, could his father not take thanks like a regular person? Still, he nodded silently. "Did you need something, Father?"

The silence that followed made Pietro want to start fidgeting, but he held himself still, as he knew Father wanted- he liked his acolytes, his soldiers, to act as such, not to behave childishly or sloppily.

"I do not. Not from you, at any rate. Your successes, recently, have been... lacking."

"What happened with Wanda wasn't my fault!" Pietro's mouth protested faster than his brain could clamp his lips shut.

Father's eyebrows rose. "Not your fault? She was placed in your care, under the roof of the house _you_ controlled. I thought you had matured enough to have such a high responsibility but I was wrong."

"No, Father, I am—"

His father huffed. "Are you? You're trying to argue with me like a child. You know you failed, and yet you're trying to tell me you haven't."

Pietro has felt embarrassed before. He knows what it feels like to think you're right, only to be proven wrong. He hides it well from others, but it constantly sticks to him. Now, he just felt ashamed. His head hung, unable to meet his father's cold gaze. "You're right, Father. I apologise for my childish behavior."

"Good. Now you may go. I will call if I have need of you, and I will expect you to answer."

It was clearly a dismissal, and Pietro knew better than to question further. He was gone in the blink of an eye, but _where_ he was going, he wasn't sure. He felt wound up, anxious, desperate to find a way to prove to Father that he could be trusted and he _was_ worthy of respect, but he'd been trying for so long and had no idea how to change things now. Doing a couple of laps of Bayville calmed him a little, and he hesitated. Father's latest disappointment in him was because he'd failed to keep Wanda with them: what if, now, he tried to talk to her? It felt, to him, like it'd been forever since they even seen each other, and admittedly, Pietro couldn't even remember the last time they talked. He knew that she probably didn't want to see him—much less talk to him—but Pietro needed to talk to someone. She was the last person that would go running to Father about what she heard from him, so whatever they talked about would stay between them. With that in mind, Pietro settled on talking with his sister.

He didn't really know _where_ she was right now, but he knew the last place she was seen was with the X-Men. They would probably turn him away when he came asking for her, maybe even start a fight, but he could be persuasive when he wanted to be. His legs moved on their own, taking him from what seemed to be an abandoned mini-mart at the edge of town to the mutant school. It didn't take long to reach Xavier's, which from an outside perspective didn't look like it housed a hundred or so mutant children. While he stepped up the gate, wondering if he should just climb and hop over them or wait for someone to come out, Pietro almost laughed at how pretentious it looked. The Brotherhood house wasn't something you'd write home about, but at least it looked like people lived there. This school looked like it came straight from the Beverly Hills.

After no one showed, Pietro decided to hop the gate. It was a memorized move by now, grabbing onto the metal and carefully avoiding the pointy ends when he propelled himself over. He brushed off any dust or grime from his clothes as he walked up to the door, already thinking of what to say. To be honest, that all depended on who opened the door. If it was the Wolverine, Pietro would just have to quick to dodge any movements to subdue him and ask to see Xavier directly. If it was the woman with white hair, she'd probably be more lenient and allow him in, but keep a close eye on him. Naturally, all his plans, such as they were, ended up derailed because it was Xavier himself who opened the door.

' _Guess I should've seen that coming_ ,' Pietro thought to himself- the telepath had probably sensed his approach and made sure he'd be the one to get the door. What didn't make sense, to Pietro, was the complicated mix of guilt, sadness and pity on Xavier's face.

"Mr. Maximoff." The older mutant greeted. "What a surprise to see you."

"Trust me, it's a surprise to me too." The boy replied, avoiding pleasantries. It would probably do him more favors, but Pietro wanted to keep this to him and his sister. No one else needed to know what he wanted to talk about. "Is Wanda here?" He asked, getting to the point.

Xavier paused, probably taken back by the sheer lack of manners, before glancing behind him. Pietro wondered what he was doing when the man suddenly came outside, closing the door behind him. "Walk with me?" Xavier asked. Pietro stared at him with a blank expression, unsure of what was happening. As powerful as Xavier was, his mutation had little effect over him and it would be idiotic for Xavier to leave the school when all his powerful mutants were there. So, against his better judgement, Pietro silently nodded. It irritated him to walk at a normal speed, but it was even worse to keep pace with a wheelchair. Pietro felt his foot beginning to tap impatiently when Xavier opened the gate for them, wondering how slow this was going to be. Still, he kept his mouth shut because he was curious as to why Xavier looked so troubled when he saw him. There was an awkward silence as they headed towards town, Xavier leading them to wherever he saw fit to talk. After an eternity (although, it was probably ten or so minutes in reality), they arrived at a bus-stop, strangely enough.

Pietro leaned against the glass cover, wondering why they had to come so far into town just to talk. Why didn't Xavier want to talk at the school? His blood chilled, feeling like it turned to ice. A bus stop... had Xavier brought him here to tell him Wanda had left town, to tell him where she'd gone?

"W-where's my sister?" His voice was hoarse, and he _hated_ himself for stammering, but if Wanda really had left Bayville two months ago, she could be literally anywhere in the world by now! He might never track her down. (Not that he wanted to, he told himself. But if she'd disappeared for good, Father really would never forgive him.) Xavier looked confused for a moment, like he didn't understand his fear, and Pietro _hated_ it.

"Did you seriously drag me out here just to tell me she left? Are you serious!?" He yelled, unable to help it. He didn't lose his composure often but this was a different situation. If Wanda was truly gone, he could kiss any ounce of respect his father had for him.

"What do you mean?" Xavier asked, as if he didn't understand.

"Wanda! How dare you show me the last place you kn—"

"Pietro, I brought you here so we could have privacy. I didn't want anyone to eavesdrop on us or get the wrong idea." The older mutant explained. "I'm not sure what you think or know, but Wanda has not left Bayville."

Pietro paused, all of the sudden anger he had gone. "I—... What?" He seriously thought his legs might give out, and he began tripping over his words, trying to explain. "SorrybutbecauseyoubroughtmetoabusstopIthoughtyouweregoingtotellmeWandalefttown."

"Pietro, please, slow down." Xavier interrupted, holding his hand up as if to stop him. "All I understood was something about Wanda."

"I thought... I thought you brought me here to say she left."

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know!" Pietro argued, feeling just as confused as the other man probably felt.

Xavier shook his head, effectively ending that circular conversation. "You don't need to worry about that. Wanda has no plans to leave Bayville. Especially..." He took a deep breath. "This is going to sound very random, but I assure you it is important: how much do you know about your mother, and your earliest years of life, Pietro? What exactly has your father told you?"

Pietro gave him an odd look. "Are you trying to ask me about my childhood...?"

"Well, yes. This is going to sound strange as well, but do you know who the Romani are?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Xavier gave him an odd look. "Excuse me?"

"Why wouldn't I know who they are? My mother was Romani, just like my uncle."

Xavier's eyes narrowed, his expression turning stern. "Can you tell me how it is you know that, when Wanda herself had no idea until Mr McCoy informed her?"

"I've known for a while now. It was pretty obvious that I wasn't white, but it wasn't until recently my father told me that I was Romani." Pietro explained.

"Erik... told you?"

"Yes? I asked him and he said that it was from my mother's side." He continued. "Why wouldn't he have told me?"

Xavier just shook his head, looking baffled. "And you aren't in the least bit angry with him?"

Pietro blinked. "Angry? Why? I'm _grateful_ he took Wanda and me in, after our uncle abandoned us for being mutants."

Xavier's face went white, then his expression turned livid. "Erik told you this?"

The boy snorted. "I already told you I asked him. Why wouldn't he tell me any of that?" Honestly, did Xavier expect every mutant to have an accepting family? He knew the man was old but he didn't think his memory was _this_ bad.

"Did he also tell you that he kidnapped you?"

Pietro paused before looking at Xavier. "What?"

"Erik, he took you. Your uncle never abandoned you for being mutants. He loved you and your sister."

"And how would you know this? Have you even spoken with my uncle—"

"I have."

That made Pietro freeze. "What-how-when- no, you're lying. You have to be!" His voice had gone ridiculously high-pitched, like it always did when he was upset or stressed, but right now he didn't care. Django Maximoff had abandoned him and Wanda when Father had showed up, he _knew_ that, he trusted his father!... didn't he? ' _Oh yes, because Father's never lied or manipulated or kidnapped or hurt anyone for his own ends.'_ That annoying voice that forever sounded like Wanda, but Pietro knew was his own conscience, mocked him in his mind.

"As much as I wish I was lying, I'm not." Xavier said.

Pietro doesn't like Xavier. He hates his ideals, hate what he stands for, but he knew that it was something his father would do. Father believed that mutants should be raised by mutants, not humans, and was willing to go to any lengths to ensure that. But... still, he didn't want to believe it. He shook his head in its usual blur. "Prove it!" He challenged, glaring at the older man.

The look Xavier now gave him couldn't be called anything except pity, and Pietro hated it.

“Wanda is currently spending the morning with your uncle and young cousins at the public park just a mile from here. If you want to test my words, go and see for yourself. I can tell you that your uncle has spent years trying to track you down. He was heartbroken to lose you, and elated when we could provide news of you both, and reunite him with Wanda.”

Pietro didn't even bother to reply or excuse himself, just taking off instead. Wanda had found a new family? No, no, that couldn't be true. He raced for the park, determined to prove Xavier wrong. He didn't feel bad for abandoning the man, not after being told such information. His respect and devotion to his father was beginning to waver, knowing everything that he did now. He arrived to the park within a second, having already been there before. Before Wanda showed up, Pietro had gotten angry at one of the other boys, although he wasn't really sure why, but he left the house in a fit of silent anger and found himself there. He noticed that there were some families there, but they were spaced out enough that he didn't need to struggle to look. Pietro forced himself to walk normally even though he was brimming with energy. He was mad, yes, but he didn't want Wanda to know he was there.

"Mateo! Careful!"

His head snapped towards the sound, realizing it came from the playground. Pietro carefully hid from view, watching while trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. There were four people altogether. Two of them were children, a boy and girl who had brown skin like him, only darker, and dark haired. He didn't even need to guess who the other two were, recognizing them as clear as day.

The man, his Uncle Django, looked almost exactly like he had in Pietro's vague recollection of him, just with more lines on his face, a longer beard, and silver streaks in his dark hair. Wanda, although it was odd to see her smiling, hadn't changed one bit, except for the fact that she was deeply tanned now, and in fact, he thought she might be darker than him.

He watched, unsure how he was feeling, (Jealous? Happy? Angry? All of the above?) as she held the little boy- Mateo, was it?- in place on the seesaw, then took over, making the little girl laugh, while Django watched them all, love and affection practically radiating from him.

Pietro's heart sank. There was no way this man had willingly given him and Wanda up, not with the way he was looking at Wanda now, like she'd hung the sun and moon, even when the little girl almost fell and he could practically feel his twin shutting down, it only took a few words from Django to cheer her up. The family left soon after and Pietro watched his sister all but collapse on a bench, looking exhausted. He hesitated- should he go over to her now, or not? There were many emotions running through his head. He was angry, felt distraught and hurt—why was _Wanda_ the one that apparently knew their uncle? How come she was so close with him and his family, and Pietro knew nothing? It was unfair. He _deserved_ that. He knew that if he went over now, there was a high chance of him yelling at her. It wasn't even just her too. He was mad at Xavier for not telling him, mad at his father for lying, mad at his uncle for not trying to find him. Pietro was just... Furious at everyone. He hated being kept in the dark, hated not knowing anything.

The boy turned away and practically stomped out of the park, needing to calm himself down before he exploded. His father would be so disappointed if he— Wait. Why should he care? His father has been nothing but a liar to him. God knows if what Pietro has been told his entire life was true or not, or if all of it was just made-up to further his father's agenda.

He needed to find out more, that was for sure. Until then... He tore away, back to the boarding house, plans and schemes racing through his mind. He'd have to act like nothing was wrong around Father, at least until he had more of a plan, but if it did turn out that Father really didn't care about him at all, then one way or another, Pietro was finding a way to get free of him, for good.

It didn't matter if that left him with no-one. Wanda had her shiny new family, Father would have his cause and his Acolytes, but to hell with them all.

He didn't need any of them. He'd be just fine on his own.


	17. Chapter 17

Wanda seriously thought she might be having a heart attack. She was one figure among hundreds in the Bayville Mall, and no-one was paying any attention to her, but she still felt like she was under a spotlight. Meeting her uncle and little cousins in a crowded public place, where she could be recognized as a mutant at any second, was different to meeting them in a quiet park.

She leaned against the pillar behind her, trying to breathe more slowly, telling herself she was not hiding, just... gathering her thoughts, before going over to the Build-a-Bear store she'd spotted Django, Ana and Mateo at a few minutes earlier.

She'd just started steeling herself to walk over and... just say hello, she figured, and see how they all responded, when an unfamiliar woman walked towards Wanda's newly discovered family.

Unfamiliar to her, at any rate, because Ana and Mateo flung themselves at the woman, and Wanda could hear their squeals of 'Mama!' from here. She froze. Django hadn't told her that his wife would be here today too!

Okay, she could deal with that. She could _definitely_ handle another adult. It wasn't like she was scared of them, she's stood up against her father before and he was more dangerous than this woman.

Except, however, she realized she had yet to even move.

Wanda sighed to herself. Why was this so difficult? She'd already met them before. This shouldn't have been making her feel anxious. Still, it would've been better if her uncle had been nice enough to mention he'd be bringing his _wife_ with them. She could've prepared herself then.

She peered around the pillar again, noticing that they were still milling about in front of the store. While the children were pointing at the small designs on the window, she noticed Django looking around before saying something to his wife. The woman shook her head in response before saying something back. They were probably talking about her if she were to guess, and that just made her stomach twist even more. She wasn't late in meeting them- Wanda had checked and realized she had a couple of minutes before their agreed time. But still.

It looked like the woman- her aunt- wanted to meet her: why else would she be here? But... what was Wanda supposed to say? Unlike Django, this woman hadn't been part of Wanda and Pietro's early lives, she had no blood tie to Wanda, and she had two small children of her own. Could she really want a messed up teenager barging into her life?

"Wanda!" The high pitched shriek almost burst her eardrums, and a small body crashed into hers, knocking the wind out of her, as two chubby arms wrapped round her tightly. Big brown eyes shone as Mateo beamed up at her, chattering away in Romani- evidently, he'd forgotten she didn't understand his language. Well, he was only six. She realized she must have stepped out from behind the pillar and gotten too lost in her thoughts to notice.

She reached down and ruffled Mateo's hair, trying to smile as best as she could. It probably looked as pained as she thought it did. "Hey, Mateo." She said before looking back up, realizing the other three had made their way over to them.

Ana was more careful than her brother when she hugged Wanda, although she too began to excitedly talk in Romani.

Django was smiling at them, laughing before saying something to the children. However, Wanda noticed that the woman looked... Conflicted. She wasn't the best at reading emotions, but she looked like she wanted to smile at her children but she didn't want to in front of Wanda.

No, she was just being delusional. She still felt antsy about this so she was probably projecting onto this new person. Her train of thought was broken by Django catching her in a tight hug. She tensed, unused to physical contact, before forcing herself to relax. Her uncle guided her over to his wife and she gulped. "Marya, this is Wanda. Wanda, this is my wife, your aunt Marya. I'm so glad you've been able to meet at last."

The woman gave her a polite smile. "It is so nice to finally meet you." She said, holding her hand out. Maybe it was a trick of her eye, but she thought it was shaking.

Wanda took her hand and shook it. "Um, yeah. Likewise." She replied. For a moment no one said anything and Wanda felt like she ruined the whole conversation, but her uncle suddenly spoke up.

"So, shall we go somewhere then?" He had wrapped his arm around his wife's waist, smiling at the two of them. Wanda nodded and felt the children grab her hands. She jumped slightly, unprepared for it, and looked at them. Neither seemed to notice, talking away with each other. However, she saw Marya frown slightly.

"Children, come hold me and your papa's hands."

Mateo pouted and complained about something. The woman didn't seem to budge and looked at them expectantly.

Wanda felt a bit uneasy, and gently tugged her hands free of her cousins. "Go on, do as your mom says. We can talk later."

She figured it was best to not push it when she'd only just met Marya, although the wary look in the older woman's eyes, like she doesn't trust Wanda already, grated on her a bit- her aunt didn't even know her and yet already didn't want her near her kids? Nonetheless, she wasn't about to just let some woman ruin her experience with her family. If she wanted to act that way, then she could. Wanda knew it was petty, but this woman wasn't blood and the only person's opinion she cared about was her uncle's.

The five of them took their time as they walked through the mall, looking at all the stores they had. The children seemed the most fascinated, pointing out all the places that they wanted to go into or caught their attention.

While Django and Marya talked to each other, probably deciding on if they should buy anything, Wanda thought to herself. She'd been to the mall before, but it wasn't on the best of terms back then- the mall had been closed and she'd been fighting the X-Men alongside the Brotherhood. She had hoped to make today the 'official' first time, but now she was getting unsure.

It wasn't even like this experience was bad. She was having some fun talking with Ana and Mateo (although mostly to Ana, who had to be the translator for Mateo), but she felt like she was intruding.

To distract herself, she followed her cousins' gazes, wondering what kind of toys they liked. Right now, both were gazing at a display of some weird fluffy things called Furbies, their expressions wistful. Wanda glanced at Django, who took one look at the display- or the price label- and turned away, his eyes sad. Wanda hesitated. Xavier had given her a credit card to spend on anything she wanted (apparently all the boarding students got an allowance) but, since coming to the Institute, she'd only bought clothes and essentials. Ana and Mateo looked so eager to have the toy. She could buy them one each, easily, but what if that offended her uncle somehow?

It wouldn't, right? She was just buying her cousins some toys, and it wasn't like she expected him to pay her back. Slipping away from the group, Wanda made her way into the store. She quickly looked around and found the shelves of Furbies on the shelves up front. She grabbed two of them, cringing slightly when she saw the price, but kept them. Xavier was covering for it anyway.

Thankfully the line at the register wasn't too long so she was able to get in and out to catch up with them. No one seemed to have noticed that she disappeared, probably used to her being quiet, as she had been for much of this trip. She tapped on Ana's shoulder and showed the girl the bag when she turned.

"What is this?" Ana questioned, unsure of what to do.

"Open it." Wanda replied. The girl looked at her before doing so, and immediately squealed with joy.

Mateo, not one to be missing out on something, rushed to peer into the bag as well and shouted alongside his sister.

Django and Marya stared at them with confused expressions, wondering what she could possibly have, when Mateo pulled out the other boxed Furby. He hugged the toy, still in its box, tightly to him, his grin nearly splitting his face, as he talked a mile a minute to his parents.

Ana was clutching her own toy as if it might vanish, gazing up at Wanda with awe in her eyes. “Thank you.” She all but whispered.

“You're welcome.” Wanda smiled back, feeling a weird but nice warm sensation in her heart. Only then did she look at Django and Marya.

Django was smiling, blinking back tears, though Wanda wasn't sure why. At least he didn't seem mad. Marya was frowning slightly, a crease between her brows. So far, she'd spoken in English, but now she spoke in Romani, in a low tone, clearly aimed at Django, who immediately looked uncomfortable, shaking his head at his wife. She repeated what she'd said, nodding at Wanda. Django flinched but turned to look at her.

“Marya says you should return the gifts, I'm afraid. We have no way of repaying your generosity.”

Wanda frowned. Did Marya really think she was that heartless? That she couldn't buy something for her cousins just because she wanted to? "No, I'm not— You don't have to pay me back. I just wanted the kids to have something, you know?" She explained, motioning towards the two that were just silently watching them.

Marya stepped forward, a stern look on her face. "Please, return those gifts. We have nothing to give back." She said.

Wanda had to control herself from sneering, schooling her expression to be blank. God, this woman just had to get her way, didn't she? Couldn't let her do _one_ nice thing for her children without it being suspicious? Wanda was almost tempted to ask if it was because she was a mutant, but she held her tongue and turned away. Instead, she looked at her uncle who was becoming more and more uncomfortable.

"The kids can keep the toys. I'm not expecting anything in return." She stated harshly.

"But, Wanda—"

"No, seriously. I'm not going to come to your house at night and steal them!"

She saw Marya freeze in the corner of her eye and noticed that she suddenly looked pale for some reason. Jeez, did her aunt think she was _that_ dangerous?

"Dinner!" Django suddenly spoke, louder than he thought he would when several people glanced their way. "Oh, um, let us repay you with dinner. Please, or else we would feel guilty."

Wanda stared at him. She could handle dinner with him and the kids, but she might say some things about Marya if she continued acting like this. Still, it would be rude if she refused. "Okay, yeah, that's fine." Going for a meal at her uncle and aunt's house wasn't a big deal, after all, and it would be nice to spend more time with Django, and Ana and Mateo. Marya still didn't look happy, but she nodded, and thankfully, dropped the subject of the Furbies.

Ana came to Wanda's side, slipping her hand into hers, the first time she'd done that without Mateo leading the way. Wanda couldn't help but smile. "What's your favorite dinner?"

Where their hands joined, again there was that weird surge, like the blood had heated in her veins. Wanda blinked, wondering if Ana felt it too.However, the little girl didn't seem to react and waited for her to respond, staring up at her expectantly.

"Oh, um, I... Don't really know? What's your favorite?"

"I love speca të ferguara!" She exclaimed before explaining what it was. Granted, Wanda didn't really understand, but she pretended she did.

"If you want, we can make you some basic traditional dishes?" Django offered, butting into the conversation.

Wanda nodded, biting her lip. "Yeah, but you can like... Make the things that Ana just said."

"We can make whatever you like, my dear. It doesn't have to just be romani foods." He continued but she shook her head.

"It's fine. I've, um, never really had romani food before, and I want to know what it tastes like and all."

Django nodded with a smile and turned to Marya, presumably telling her about the sudden change of plans. Marya's eyes snapped towards Wanda but didn't say anything about it.Wanda quickly sent a text to Ororo's cell, letting her know she'd be out for dinner.

They spent another hour or so at the mall once Ororo replied back, and looked around at all the stores that Wanda pointed out. She overheard from some students at the school what places were the best here and hoped that at least the children liked them.

Speaking of the kids, Mateo and Ana didn't seem to notice the tension between Wanda and their mother, who ignored each other for the rest of the time there. They still clung to Wanda despite the icy looks that Marya kept sending her.

By the time they left it was somewhat past five when Wanda checked her phone. It wasn't that dark out yet, but she wondered if they had walked here or what. She didn't remember seeing her uncle drive, so she had no idea how if that was how they got around. However, that thought disappeared when Django pulled keys from his pocket and approached this somewhat beat-up sedan. He unlocked the doors and while he and Marya got in, Wanda helped Mateo, who kept going on about something, which she assumed was getting the window seat.

"I can take the middle." Ana said.

"No, it's fine. It's your car." Wanda stated but the girl shook her head.

"It's okay. I'm smaller, and the car is tiny."

Wanda ignored Ana and quickly got in before the little girl could do anything. Ana looked at her, bewildered, before giggling slightly, getting into the car and closing the door.

Marya glanced back and said something to the children, and they got their seatbelts on. Honestly, Wanda was slightly regretting her decision. She felt like she was taking up all the room and she struggled to find the thing to put her belt in until she realized she was sitting on it.

Still, Mateo was having fun, proudly showing off his purple toy to her. She didn't understand the appeal of this 'Furby' thing, but he seemed happy.The journey didn't take long. About twenty minutes had passed when Django parked in the street outside a house. Wanda waited til the kids were out (Mateo having climbed over her) before stepping out herself. She did a double take looking at the tiny run-down house. How could a family of four with two little kids live here? She hid her reaction as best she could, as Django went ahead and unlocked the door, and the kids tugged her up the path, with Marya trailing behind, her eyes burning into the back of Wanda's head, or so it felt.

When they entered, the inside of the house was somewhat better than the outside. She could see some discoloring along the walls and ceiling, but it seemed that they had done the best they could to make the inside decent. She took her shoes off when she noticed the children doing the same, placing them against the wall.

"Mama, can I show Wanda our room?" Ana asked, grabbing onto her hand. Marya paused and glanced between them almost as if she were looking for something. However, she stiffly nodded. Wanda blinked. Wait, _our_ room? Did the kids have to share? Ana grinned and began pulling Wanda down the hallway. She glanced into whatever room they happened to pass, one of which was the living room to their right and what may have been the bathroom. Mateo was right behind them, going on about something that Wanda quite frankly couldn't attempt to understand.

"This is our room!" Ana suddenly exclaimed, the most energetic Wanda has seen her. Their room wasn't that big. There were drawings hung up on the side that obviously belonged to Ana, some that were colored and others that didn't seem completed.

On Mateo's side, there were some toys laying on the ground that were spilled from the toy chest in front of his bed.He placed his Furby proudly on his pillow, before pulling out a carved toy dog, no, wolf, she realized, from the chest and offering it to her, speaking in Romani yet again.

Wanda did catch the word 'Tata' and thought she understood, taking the toy. "Tata made this for you?" She examined the wooden wolf closely. It was beautifully made, but also weathered and shiny with age. As she held it, turning it over in her hands, the shape, the smoothness of the wood, felt almost familiar... Mateo shook his head and said something else, looking at Ana for help.

"Tata makes- made this for you when you were small," Ana explained. "He says it was your favorite."

Wanda stared down at the wooden figure silently. This used to be hers? And... Her uncle kept it all these years? "Was... Did he make anymore?" She questioned.

Ana paused and glanced at the box. "I think so. Tata made another one, but I don't know if he gave it to us."

Mateo rooted through all the toys in the chest, pulling out some that were missing a few of their limbs and others that looked like they were in perfect condition.

Then, he pulled out another wooden figure that he handed to her. It was a rabbit. “Pietro's.” Mateo stated solemnly.

She snorted. Of course her brother would have loved the rabbit.

"Want to see my drawings?" Ana asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

Wanda glanced at the girl and nodded but she looked down at the figures. "Hey, um, can I...?"

"Oh, do you want them?" Ana asked. "You can. Mateo doesn't really play with them."

"I keep safe to give to back you." Mateo announced proudly. Wanda felt oddly touched, even as Mateo's botched English made her lips twitch.

"To give back _to_ you, Mateo." Ana corrected, although she was already taking one of her drawings down to show Wanda, presenting it with a flourish. "This is where you were born!" It was a landscape, a typical child's drawing, blue sky, green grass and trees, but with a large purple-brown shape in the middle- a mountain, Wanda realized.

"Transia, right?" She asked.

"Yes! Tata said that you lived in one of the camps by that mountain." Ana explained, pointing to the obvious part of the drawing.

Wanda shook her head minutely. It was still insane to think that she used to live in a whole different country. She didn't remember ever coming to the United States, much less living anywhere else.

"Did you ever live there? In Transia?" Wanda asked as Mateo came up beside them, resting against her.

Ana shook her head before putting the drawing back. "Mama was from there, but she came to America before Tata. Me and Mateo never went." She explained before pointing to another drawing. Although it was just stick figures, Wanda noticed it was of Django and Marya.

"You like drawing, huh?"

"Yes. I draw to get dreams out of my mind sometimes."

However, before Ana could explain more, Marya called from the kitchen. The little girl looked up at Wanda with wide eyes.

"I have to go help Mama. I'll be back." She said before hurrying out of the room.

Wanda watched her before turning back to the drawings. She didn't understand most of them, but she could tell most of them were meant to be when both the children were older.

Mateo had wandered back to his toys and picked some up, entertaining himself until dinner was done. Wanda felt bad for not really talking with him, but she didn't understand Romani and she knew he didn't understand English that well. He didn't seem to mind, however. Every now and then she noticed him looking up at her and smiling before continuing his little game.

She must have gotten too lost in her thoughts as before she knew it, Marya was once again yelling from the kitchen. Although, this time, Mateo got up and grabbed Wanda's hand.

"Dinner!" He beamed, 'pulling' her to her feet and tugging her to the kitchen. On entering, Wanda saw that a place had been laid for her at the edge of the table. It made sense: Marya and Django probably always sat opposite the kids, and so she'd been squeezed on the end. It would be tight, but they should all be able to eat. She took a seat, smiling and thanking Marya (and Ana, as she'd apparently helped) as food was dished out. She didn't recognize a lot of what was on her plate, but it smelled good. She watched Django for a few minutes, trying to get an idea for which foods went with what, before taking a cautious bite herself. Honestly, it wasn't that bad. Most of the food that the institute provided was pretty generic, and Wanda wasn't sure if she ever had anything like this.

"Do you like it?" Ana asked.

Wanda nodded. "Yeah, it's... It's pretty good, actually."

The little girl beamed. "Good! It's my favorite."

Oh yeah, she had mentioned that. Wanda ate another pepper and went quiet after that. She was used to hearing people talk during dinner, even if she didn't participate in it.

"So," Marya said, looking at Wanda, "you go to the school?"

She looked at the woman. "I stay there, but I'm not a student."

"Why not?"

"I'm too old for it. I'm only there for my mutation, to help with my control."

The woman suddenly seemed uncomfortable. Wanda noticed how she stiffened at the mention of her abilities, glancing down at her hands. Oh. So that's what that was all about. Wanda snorted quietly to herself but apparently Marya heard it.

"What is funny?"

"If you have a problem with me being a mutant, you can say it."

Django glanced at her worriedly. "Wanda..."

"No, if she has an issue with me being a _mutant_ I'd rather hear her say it."

Marya stared at her with a blank expression while the children watched silently. Mateo continued eating, oblivious, although Ana seemed to understand some of what was going on. Wanda waited for her aunt to say something, a small smirk on her face.

"Do you know about the women in your family?" Marya asked.

Wanda blinked, confused. "What?"

"The women in the Maximoff family. Do you know the history of them?"

"No, how could I? I only found out I _had_ a family less than a month ago." Wanda glanced towards her uncle, who was frowning at his wife. "What history?"

He answered her while keeping his narrowed eyes on Marya. "It's nothing, Wanda. Just an old family legend, nothing but a superstition."

Despite her uncle clearly wanting to dismiss it, Wanda was intrigued by a family legend, and why Marya seemed to link her to it. "What legend?"

Marya's eyes focused on her even as Django sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "The story goes that, 500 years ago, the Maximoff women of Transia made a bargain with a god- or demon, in some versions of the tale, asking for the power to control their own lives and destinies, not subject to any men. The entity granted them power, but the price would be paid when twenty generations had passed, for the demon would then claim a daughter of the twentieth generation for its own."

"Marya." Django stood up. "Enough."

Goosebumps were rising on Wanda's arms for some reason. 500 years _was_ about 20 generations, wasn't it? "And... have there been women with actual power in the family?" It was impossible, of course, there was no such thing as demons, but it was a good story nonetheless.

Marya gave her an icy look. " _You_ have power."

"Well, yeah." Wanda almost laughed. "But I'm a mutant. My abilities come from my father."

"No, it came from that _thing_." The woman hissed.

"Marya!" Django snapped, an angry look on his face.

The woman glanced at him and stood herself, keeping her gaze on Wanda. "You have the power of that demon. I will not allow that thing into my home."

"That is _enough_!" Django yelled.

Mateo and Ana jumped, staring at their father with scared expressions. Wanda suddenly felt uncomfortable. She wouldn't have come if she knew this was going to happen.

"I want her gone, Django!" Marya shouted.

"No! I finally found one of Magda's children and you want me to leave her? All for some old wives' tale?!"

"You don't know it like I do!" The woman yelled.

Wanda stood from her seat, startling the two adults. "I'm just gonna go."

"What?" Django asked.

"I'm leaving. If she doesn't want me here, I'm not listen to her yell at me and call me some devilspawn in front of Ana and Mateo." Wanda turned and walked away, ignoring Django's calling her back. She had to get out of that house. Tears were burning her eyes as she fled, using her powers to grab her shoes and have them suddenly be on her feet. She'd been called a lot of things before, but a demon? It hurt. _So much for thinking I could have a family._

She moved fast, not caring where she went, as long as Django didn't follow her. She couldn't cope with that right now. Only after walking several blocks did she realize she had no idea where she was. Feeling in her pocket, she sighed in relief that she had her phone, at least, and pulled it out, then hesitated. Who could she call? Ororo, Xavier, Logan? They'd all demand to know what had happened, and make a huge scene of it...

Simon. Wanda knew she could call him, ask for a lift, and he'd probably do it. She didn't have to tell him everything, either. He knew how tough families could be. Not that she thought of Marya as family. Not after what she'd said. Wanda dialled Simon's number, then struggled to take deep breaths to calm down as the phone rang, pressed to her ear. It only took another moment before someone picked up the phone.

"Hello?" A groggy voice asked.

"Um, hey, Simon." There was a silence on the other end.

"Wanda? Um, hey, what's up? Did you need something?" He asked, something rustling in the background.

"Yeah, uh, can you come get me? I'm... lost." She answered, glancing around to see if she remembered anything about this part of town.

"Where?"

"Do you remember where you met my uncle? It's around there."

"Can you give me the street name?"

"I'm on East McDowell Road." She replied.

"Alright, give me a few minutes then. Did something happen?"

"I'll explain when you get here, it's... weird but, um... See you soon." She said to him before hanging up. She leaned against the wall of one of the buildings as she began to wait, Marya's words echoing in her mind.

' _It came from that thing.'_

_'You have the power of that demon.'_

It was crazy. Demons didn't exist and Wanda knew she got her powers from her mutation, nothing more....

So why were shivers running down her spine?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter takes some liberties with Wanda's backstory from the comics and her ties to Chthon. We tried to blend old comic canon with recent retcons as much as possible.
> 
> East McDowell Road is a fictitious road in Bayville, no resemblance to any real place is meant.
> 
> Romani food has influences from Albanian cuisines, and speca të ferguara is roasted peppers that is served with pite.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speech in italics is Romani. There is some strong language in this chapter.

"So... Where did you get the car?" Wanda eyed Simon, knowing he didn't have one of his own at the Institute.

Simon tapped the wheel before turning to her with a smirk. "Borrowed it from the school. I think this is how everyone gets to Bayville, but I didn't really stop to ask anyone." He explained. Wanda gave him a look before leaning back in her seat, closing her eyes. Dinner, for lack of better words, was an absolute shitshow. She honestly didn't know what to think, only knowing that she definitely wasn't going back there, either from her own volition or Marya's.

"How ya feeling?" Simon asked her, almost like he could tell what she was thinking.

Wanda glanced out the window and stared at the houses that flew past. "I don't know... Angry? Betrayed, I guess?" She answered. "All I know is that I'm definitely _not_ happy."

"What even happened anyway?" Wanda groaned, even though she anticipated the question. "Okay, so, let me tell you about how the trip went because it's relevant to this. So I met them at the mall, and to be honest, I thought things were fine? Like, Marya—that my uncle's wife—seemed a little uncomfortable but I just shrugged it off. Like, imagine if your husband's missing niece just showed up one day. Anyway, at one point, my cousins saw these furby things and wanted them, and I bought them for 'em because I could." She felt her chest get tight when she remembered what came next, feeling a tinge of annoyance. "That's when Marya got pissy. Okay, well, not really, but she _definitely_ wasn't happy that I got them."

“Weird. Who wouldn't want expensive toys bought for their kids?”

“Marya, apparently. She tried to make me return them. My uncle invited me to dinner when I wouldn't do that, said it was to pay me back.” She shrugged. “I hung out at their house for a bit, mostly with little Mateo. Then at dinner, Marya told me about this old family legend. Supposedly my ancestors bargained with a demon or something, and she thinks that's why I have powers.” Turning away, trying to indicate she thought the story was garbage, she felt something heavy in her pocket, and reached in, confused.

It was the carved wolf that Ana and Mateo had said had once been hers. But she'd left it at their house when she'd stormed out- hadn't she?

"Wait... Hold on, a _demon_?" Simon questioned with a dumbfounded look.

"I know!" She said, putting the carving back in her pocket. "Like, just say you don't like mutants or something instead of making up some weird story."

"Yeah, but your uncle is cool with mutants, right? Why would he marry a woman that doesn't like them?"

Wanda shrugged. "Thing is, _he_ got mad at her for saying that." Simon gave her a curious look when they stopped at a red light. "You think she lied or something?"

"Maybe, but like, she had to have known about me and, um, Pietro, so why go on the search with him?"

"She doesn't have to hate mutants, you know. It could be like... Magneto was on the news, yeah?"

Wanda felt her fists clench around the carving at the mere mention of her father but quickly composed herself, nodding her head.

"She must know he's your dad. Maybe she thinks you'd be like him or something. Making the kids like you and all before, well, _bam._ Turn around and hurt them!"

She glared daggers at him. How _dare_ he say she was like Magneto? "Simon, what the hell?"

"What?" He had an offended look on his face. "You can't say I'm wrong. She probably thinks that's what you're gonna do."

Wanda glared at him, before shifting in her seat, turning as far away from him as she could. "Thanks so much for that!"

"No, no, I didn't mean _I_ think you'd do that, I just... ugh, why do I always manage to say stuff wrong around you?!"

"Why are you asking me?!" She yelled, seconds away from getting out the car, even if it was still moving.

"Because you made it seem bad!" He answered. "I was just trying to offer some suggestions!"

"Well keep them to yourself! Do you think I wanted to hear that?!"

Simon sighed obnoxiously, remaining silent instead of replying. She scowled, hoping that they got to the school as soon as they could. She'd thought for a moment she had someone that she could talk to, but she guessed she was wrong.

Unwittingly, she pulled the wolf carving into her hand, running her thumb over it. The gesture was strangely comforting, even if she had no idea how she still had it.

Of course, Simon noticed. "What's that?" He spoke tentatively, probably afraid of pissing her off again.

"Just a carving my uncle made for me when I was a kid. My cousins gave it to me."

Simon peeked at it. "A wolf? Odd choice for a kid."

She bristled. "I like it. It came from the woods near the camp where my brother and I used to play. It's a piece of home." Wait. Ana hadn't told her that. Where had that come from?

* * *

" _Ana, Mateo, please go to your room_." Django said, staring at the open door with blank eyes.

Ana glanced at Mateo with a scared look, having never seen her mother like that before, but neither moved.

Django glanced at them pleadingly while Marya stood by her seat with a hard expression, fists still clenched.

" _Please, children_."

The two scrambled from their seats and rushed down the hallway, the sound of their doors closing coming seconds later. It was only then that Django looked at his wife, shaking his head before walking out of the front door. He didn't expect for her to follow him, so he was surprised when he heard the door close behind him.

He leaned against a lamppost, crossing his arms as he stared out down the street. Wanda could have run either way, and he wasn't going to look for her, not when she wanted to be alone. At least he assumed she did.

" _I'm not sorry_." Marya said as she stood beside him.

He glanced at her furiously. " _You insulted my sister and her daughter! You insult my family for legends that were made from false beliefs!_ "

“ _You would not call it false if you'd seen what I saw as a child!”_ Marya's face was haggard, haunted, her voice cracking. _“I told you that my mother and all her friends died, but not how.”_ She swallowed hard. “ _Mama belonged to a group of people that worshipped the demon linked to your family name. The things I saw, what it could do...”_

He backed away from her, unable to help the horrified expression on his face. " _M-Marya_?"

She glared at him as tears ran down her face. " _I'm protecting my children, Django. Any mother would do the same._ "

" _At the expense of my niece?_ " He asked incredulously. Marya knew how much Wanda meant to him!

" _I don't blame her for being cursed by that demon. I don't blame her for what it did, but I won't let it be around us or our family_."

" _N-No... You're lying_!" He yelled, turning around from his wife.

" _Lying?!_ " She yelled, voice quivering as she cried. " _You will never understand what I saw! I have witnessed monstrosities no human should see!_ "

" _You speak of having seen these demonic acts, and I must rely on your word?!_ "

" _Yes! I watched them go too far, I watched as they gave that demon life!_ " She paled, her eyes wide and panicked as she seemed to recall the memories. " _I saw them die, Django! They screamed and screamed until they were nothing but ash! Ash!_ "

Django couldn't believe what she was saying. He had heard these kinds of tales ever since the others in the Romani camp learned Magda was pregnant, but he never believed them. Yet, from his wife.... He took several deep breaths. It was just a _legend_. How could there be any truth in it? If Marya truly had seen evidence that the Demon of the Darkhold existed... what then? What did that mean for Wanda? His hands shook, but he fought to speak calmly. _"If I accept your words as literal truth, my love, I still don't understand how you're so adamant that Wanda is somehow corrupted by this entity."_

Marya's eyes flashed. _"The legend states-"_

 _"That the twentieth generation of our family will produce a daughter to serve as the Demon's vessel, I know. But, Marya... Magda and I_ _both_ _were the nineteenth generation. There are_ _two_ _daughters of the twentieth generation. Wanda... and our Ana."_

* * *

By the time they had gotten back to the school, Wanda was both ready to go to sleep and never wake up. This day had been too exhausting for her and she was ready for it to end. It didn't help that she had refused to talk for the rest of the ride. There was an awkward silence as a result, but she spent most of it staring at the carving, wondering how she knew where it was from. Maybe Mateo mentioned it and she forgot?

She snapped out of her thoughts when the car suddenly stopped and the engine switched off. She glanced at Simon and realized they were in the garage. He was getting out by the time she got her seatbelt off, waiting for her so he could lock it.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Simon suddenly questioned. She looked at him with a soft frown.

"What?"

"Listen, I haven't exactly gotten the full mutant experience by getting called names and all—that I know of—but getting called a demon isn't good for anyone." He explained, scratching the back of his neck, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I'm not the best at talking about emotions and all, but I can lend an ear for you."

"I... thanks." She kind of wished Simon would just stick to being an ass. She could cope with that. Him being nice... it was weird. "And, uh, thanks for the ride home."

"You're welcome." His grin split his face, and to Wanda's confusion, her heart-rate jumped a bit.

"Kind of like a bad horror movie plot, if you think about it," Simon added, musingly. "Girl with a crappy past finds long-lost family- and then gets told she inherited a curse." He tilted his head to one side. "Your uncle said it was just a family legend, right?"

"Yeah. And it's crap."

"I know, but... where's your family from? I kind of wanna know if this legend is real." Simon already had his phone in his hand, accessing the internet. 

Wanda rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny she was curious too. "As far as I know, my uncle and my mom came from a place called Transia."

Simon typed slowly, dictating as he went. "Supernatural... phenomena... in.... Transia...." His eyes widened. "Whoa."

"What?!"

"There's one place there that seems to be a magnet for ghost stories." He offered her the phone, showing her an image of a solitary mountain in a fairly flat landscape. "Mount Wundagore."

Every hair on Wanda's arms and the back of her neck stood up. She _knew_ that name... She snatched the phone from him, ignoring the small, "hey!" as she looked for an article. She found one that, surprisingly, had decent information about these stories. They ranged from a strange thick fog that would settle on the town and nearby camp (some accounts saying it appeared red), while odd noises could be heard from the forest at the base of the mountain. The article tried to rationalize these happenings, so she quickly left and searched for something else.

However, before she could find more, Simon had taken the phone back from her. "Not cool, Wanda! But what did you find?"

"Um, some crazy shit involving fog and weird noises."

"Then why did you take my phone like that? Have you heard of this place before or something?" He asked.

She held her head in her hands. "I—I thought I did? I feel like I know it."

Simon blinked a few times. "OK, that's... weird."

"Tell me about it." She shivered.

"Huh." Simon stared at her. "Wanda, Wundagore. Were you named for it or something?"

"I'm..." She stared at him before snorting. "Dude, that was the lamest joke, _ever_."

"I'm serious! That can't be a coincidence." He insisted as they headed through the door into the kitchen.

Wanda automatically held her hand up, generating a small ball of energy for some light when they noticed that the lights were off. It didn't seem that late so she was surprised that no one downstairs. "Is everyone asleep or something?" She asked, confused.

"I think so. I was napping when you called and no one stopped me from taking the keys." He replied, putting them down on the counter.

"Oh."

"You hungry?" Simon asked, opening the fridge. "Wait, you just had dinner. Never mind."

"Um, I didn't eat that much, honestly."

"Want me to get you something from here? I don't know how to make food honestly, but there should be something easy."

“Um, sure, if you want. Thanks.” She added at the last minute.

Another grin from Simon made a butterfly-like sensation flutter in her stomach. _It's just because I'm hungry_ , she told herself, although Simon's cheery humming as he put together two sandwiches made her lips twitch in a smile.

He handed her one of the sandwiches eagerly, kind of reminding her of an excited puppy. She'd only just taken a bite when the lights flickered on, then off again, revealing a robed figure standing at the back door. It took a few seconds for Wanda's mind to catch up, recognizing their 'guest'. "Agatha?"

Simon looked at Wanda, then at Agatha, obviously confused- and worried. "Um—"

"Wanda, my dear, it's been too long since we last met." The old woman remarked, stepping inside uninvited and ignoring Simon as if he wasn't there.

Simon had moved in front of Wanda by now, staring at her mentor with an odd expression. Despite not being able to see his face, Wanda could tell that he was getting panicky, unsure of who this was. She didn't blame him, to be honest. She hadn't thought she'd ever see Agatha again and it wasn't like she went around telling people who the older woman was.

She placed a hand on Simon's arm, lightly pushing him so he would move aside before she approached Agatha and hugged the woman, genuinely happy to see her.

"Yeah, wow, it has. What are you even doing here?" She asked, pulling away slightly.

"There is something that has caught my attention that I need to discuss with you, but... Privately." She answered, finally glancing at Simon as she spoke.

"Wait, what's going on?" He questioned, "Who are you, and how did you even get through the gates?!"

Agatha tsked in disapproval, reverting to ignoring him, turning her attention back to Wanda. "I hope you don't mind, Wanda. but I've already spoken to your headmaster, asked his permission to have you come and stay with me for a few days. I've sensed... a change in your abilities, and I think we should look into what it might mean."

Wanda nodded slowly- her powers _had_ been weird lately, changing color, something Hank hadn't been able to explain, and there were those weird sensations whenever she made physical contact with little Ana... besides, it'd be nice to be somewhere where people weren't prying into why she wasn't talking to her uncle or his family right now. She didn't want a huge deal made of Marya not liking her. Not many people did, it didn't matter. Really.

' _The women in your family made a deal with a demon_ '. Marya's words echoed in her mind. What if, crazy as it sounded, there _was_ some truth to it? If anyone would know, Agatha would...

Simon looked at Agatha warily. She, of course, was still focusing on Wanda- the reason for her visit. Simon shook his head. “Wanda, are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, I am. I need to talk about some stuff with Agatha- and before you ask, she's the main reason I have any control of my powers. She was a huge help when I first came to Bayville. I'll be back in a few days.”

“Ok, if you're really sure.” Simon didn't sound convinced. “I'll call you.”

“Thanks.” She gave him a rare smile before following Agatha out of the door.

Her mentor, through some spell or something, Wanda didn't know specifics of Agatha's powers, had made it so that stepping out the back door of the Institute led to them stepping straight into Agatha's home at Whisper Hill. A loud purr sounded and Ebony, Agatha's cat, came and wound around her ankles like he was welcoming her.


	19. Chapter 19

Although she hadn't really known the woman for long, Wanda had become familiar with the sight of Agatha's cramped living room. She reached down and picked up Ebony, stroking the cat on the head while taking a seat on an armchair, leaning back into it as the warmth of the fireplace embraced her. Agatha had disappeared through the archway into her own kitchen the moment Wanda stepped through the makeshift portal, probably making tea for the both of them. She eyed the fireplace mantle in the meantime, examining all the books and other trinkets that were scattered all over it. Nothing seemed to have changed from the last time she had been there, except some of the books looked more worn out.

“Critiquing my collection once again?” Agatha questioned as she suddenly appeared, setting a small tray down on the stand beside Wanda.

The girl rolled her eyes with a small smile. “I make one comment about your stuff, over a year ago and you still won’t let me live it down.” She remarked, holding Ebony back when he decided he needed to investigate the cups.

Agatha huffed. “You dared to insult tomes of magic beyond your comprehension, girl.”

“Agatha, I’m a mutant, not a sorceress.”

“A mutant sorceress, more like it.” The woman quipped, picking up one of the cups and taking a sip. However, Agatha suddenly adopted a more serious expression, signalling a nonverbal change in conversation. “Now, about your abilities…”

Wanda sighed but nodded, knowing that it was going to come up sooner or later. She had wished they could have spent some more time just catching up, noticing an odd trend of their conversations only being about her mutation.

Agatha eyed her shrewdly. “I sensed a change within your abilities. Do you have an explanation for that?” The woman questioned, a stern look on her face that Wanda has come to recognize as genuine concern.

She looked down at her lap, absentmindedly scratching Ebony between his ears. If something about her abilities had changed, she wouldn’t have known. It felt as though everything was the same as before, but perhaps her gaining more control over her emotions had something to do with it? She had relied upon how she felt to power herself, charging every hex with every bit of fury she held. However, there had been one notable change that honestly didn’t seem that worrisome.

“Your magic appears with a blue glow, yeah?” She asked, recalling the navy hue.

Agatha cocked an eyebrow but nodded. “Yes, most users of magic tend to adopt a color personal to them.”

Wanda kept her gaze on Agatha as she held her hand up out and summoned a small ball of energy, noticing the way the woman’s eyes widened at the sight of red.

“For some reason, my magic turned red and I have no idea why.”

The woman was silent for several moments before clearing her throat, placing her cup down back on the tray. “The art of sorcery is rather unique. For some, their spells will take on colors that they previously did not have before as their powers evolve. Perhaps yours changed in that fashion, becoming red as a reflection of your prominent form of magic.”

“Oh, so this is… Normal?”

Agatha nodded. “That is correct.”

“But it doesn’t feel like my powers _have_ evolved, though. They feel the same.” Wanda pointed out, stroking Ebony’s back when the cat leaned up and licked at her face.

“Sometimes change can go unnoticed.”

“I mean, yeah, but you'd think I would have noticed when my magic turned _red_.”

Agatha leaned back in her chair, humming to herself with a thoughtful expression.

“Wanda, when did you actually realize your magic had changed? What were you doing around that time?” She asked.

“I noticed it when I was with my cousins.” She replied, not noticing the incredulous look on Agatha’s face that the older woman quickly smoothed away. However, she looked over questioningly when she realized how silent her mentor was. “Is something wrong?”

“Since when did you have cousins?”

“Oh, yeah, I never said that, did I? Basically, the Professor helped me track down my uncle from my mother’s side. I met him and my cousins for the first time last week.” Wanda revealed.

For a moment, Wanda thought Agatha looked pale at the news, but reasoned it must have been her imagination. There was no reason for Agatha to be _disturbed_ at the news, anyway. Still, she noticed that the older woman didn’t seem that happy, and more… Uncomfortable.

“What were you and your family doing?”

“Nothing much, to be honest. I was playing with my cousins on the seesaw and I used my powers to hold my cousin, Mateo, when I noticed it was red.”

Agatha pursed her lips and reached for her cup, sipping her tea.

“Had you done anything before that?”

“Nope, nothing at all.” Wanda stated. “Well…”

“Well what?” Agatha asked.

“Okay, so, as I mentioned, I was playing with them on the seesaw. This happened after I noticed the change in color, by the way. My other cousin, Ana, wanted me to go on it with her. Except, I’m obviously heavier, so when I got off I accidentally made her fall off. I went to help her up when I felt this… Fire?”

The older woman merely cocked an eyebrow.

“Shut up, Agatha, this is hard to explain. This weird feeling shot through my hand when I touched her shoulder. It felt like someone just shot my veins full of liquid fire, but it disappeared when I pulled away.”

Ebony hopped onto the arm of the chair and jumped over to Agatha, resting on her lap. “Do you think that you were merely distracted, and inadvertently used your mutation?” She questioned, stroking the cat’s back.

“No, that’s the thing. It happened _again_ afterwards, but it wasn’t as painful as before. More like a dull pain.” Wanda mentioned.

“And what of your cousin? Did she say anything?”

Wanda thought for a moment before perking up. “Oh, I totally forgot, but she did actually.”

“Oh?”

“She looked as surprised as me when it happened and asked, ‘Did you do that?’ so she obviously felt the same thing.”

Agatha seemed to relax at that. “Then I wouldn’t worry much, my dear. An odd change within your magic will warrant distractions, leading to loss of control.”

Wanda huffed. “Sure, but what about the thing she saw?”

The older woman froze and didn’t even try to hide it from the young mutant. She didn’t even look to see if she put her cup down on the tray. She kept her gaze solely on Wanda, who noticed an odd look to her eyes that she had never seen before. It made her chest tightened with worry: she'd never seen Agatha like this.

“What thing?” Agatha questioned harshly. “What did this girl see?”

“Um, I think… Some mountain? My uncle mentioned that she’s been having nightmares about it, so _I_ didn’t cause it.”

Ebony hissed when Agatha suddenly leaned towards Wanda. “Did she describe this mountain?”

“Agatha, what’s going on? Why are you getting so freaked out about this?” The mutant demanded, getting up from her chair. She didn’t understand why the woman was being like this, and it didn’t help that those articles that Simon had found were fresh in her mind. They had made her antsy, and with Agatha’s reaction, she was starting to wonder if something was going on that she didn’t know about. Granted, there was no definitive answer that the mountain Ana had mentioned (and drawn) was actually the one in Transia, but still.

The older woman must have realized how strange her reactions were, for she shook her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“I apologize, Wanda. When you’re as old as me, you experience many things,” Ebony jumped to the floor when she sat back in her chair, an embarrassed furrow to her brow, “I didn’t mean to alarm you, it simply reminded me of an event many years ago in my past that I would rather forget.”

Wanda didn’t say anything as she crossed her arms, looking to the ground. Agatha rarely mentioned her past, unless it was something that wasn’t major. For all she knew, Agatha could have legitimately experienced something similar to this, but something in the back of Wanda’s mind said that wasn’t the case.

“It’s fine.” She muttered.

Agatha nodded. “Now, is there anything else you would like to tell me? We still don’t know what caused your abilities to change.”

“I’ve had these headaches for the past few days. They usually happen before I go to sleep.”

“Hm… Mere headaches would not warrant the change I felt. However, we shouldn’t just ignore them, as they could be the result of it.” Agatha explained.

That made sense, Wanda thought. She’d had migraines in the past because of her powers, especially when she was in the asylum, but they were never consistently every night like this.

“Wanda?”

The girl looked up, realizing that Agatha was staring at her.

“What?”

“I asked you a question but you never answered. Do you feel one of those headaches coming on?” Agatha asked, standing from her chair. Although she shook her head, the older woman approached her and gently cupped her face. One of her hands glowed, hovering over her temple before she felt an odd pulse in her head.

“What did you do?” Wanda asked.

“A spell of rejuvenation.” The woman stepped away and approached the fireplace, pulling an unmarked book off of the mantle. “It will last until tomorrow morning.” Agatha said as she flipped through the book, thumbing through yellowed pages until she found what she wanted.

Wanda suddenly heard a demanding meow at her feet, and glanced down to see Ebony sitting there patiently with a piece of paper in his mouth. She quirked an eyebrow and bent down and took it from the cat, wondering why he even had it. However, before she could ask, Agatha all but snatched it from her and tossed it into the fire. Wanda jumped when the flames suddenly roared, turning a dark blue before settling back down. She watched as Agatha _reached_ into the fire with a calm expression. When she pulled her arm out, her clothes and hand were completely fine, not bearing a single mark from the flames. That was when Wanda noticed that Agatha was holding the piece of paper, which was also untouched by the flames, except there was writing on it now.

“Here,” Agatha said, holding it out to her. “‘It is the instructions for the spell.”

“Oh.” Wanda looked over it, noticing that it wasn’t that complicated. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, my dear.” Agatha placed the book back before returning to her chair.

Wanda carefully tucked the piece of paper into her pocket, reminding herself to take it out before she went to sleep. She glanced at the old grandfather clock behind her, noticing that almost an hour had passed. She didn't feel that tired, but it would be nice to just lie down and forget about her day.

"Guest room is upstairs to the right, yeah?" Wanda asked.

Agatha nodded. "Tired?"

Wanda shook her head. "No, just wanna clear my thoughts and all."

The old woman hummed as Ebony claimed his spot on her lap. "Grab some of the frankincense from my kitchen before you do. It's in the jar with the gold thread."

It must be exhausting to be a witch, Wanda thought. Although she had powers similar to them and even used their techniques, Wanda herself never did any of the rituals that she'd seen Agatha do. With time she could probably remember what every herb and crystal could do, but at the same time, it seemed confusing.

Wait, that reminded her of something. She paused in the archway to the kitchen, turning to Agatha with a curious look.

"Hey, do you know anything about some curse on my family?"

Agatha looked at her sharply. "Pardon?"

"Yeah, my aunt went on about some curse in my family. Like… I'm talking from five hundred years ago."

"Where did she hear this?" Her voice was oddly clipped, reminding her of their earlier conversation. Her eyes squinted suspiciously.

"I don't know, but she also said something about some god or demon." She revealed. "Never knew that people could be _that_ superstitious about mutants."

Agatha had turned pale, her face almost bloodless. "Did she say this demon's name?"

Wanda shook her head. She was beginning to feel weird again, but not from being kept in the dark. If Agatha seemed to be _that_ scared of what Wanda thought was some half baked superstitious rambling…

"It… That legend isn't real, is it? It's just superstition. You'd have told me something like that, wouldn't you?" She asked.

Agatha took a tiny half-step back. "I—"

Ebony suddenly hissed, claws unsheathing from his paws as he jumped onto the window sill behind the two chairs, staring outside the window. Agatha quickly stood and peered into the darkness before looking at the cat.

"What has gotten into you?" She questioned, moving to pick him up. However, the cat, surprisingly, hissed at her. The woman looked taken back, and Ebony let out an prolonged yowl, giving Agatha an almost pointed look, before she turned to Wanda.

"Dear, go up to the guest room and do not leave. I will come back if I do not find anything." She stated before making her way out the front door.

Wanda frowned when the door closed. Why would no one ever tell her anything? Why did _everyone_ leave her in the unknown? She turned and headed up the stairs instead, feeling done with everything. That seemed to be a constant mood for her, she noticed. To feel disappointed, angry and tired. Wanda sighed as she entered the guest room, ready to fling herself on the bed and sleep for the next few hours uninterrupted. However, she remembered the piece of paper in her pocket and took it out, looking over the instructions. She had forgotten the herb that Agatha told her about, so she hoped this would work.

It was a simple spell, honestly. All she needed to do was focus on the negative energy and use it for herself. Essentially creating a barrier, the paper said, to absorb the ill effects to be dispelled the next morning into something that could handle it.

Wanda closed her eyes and breathed slowly, thinking of the headaches (of the _nightmares_ ) in great detail. Her head almost _hurt_ just thinking about them, but she proceeded forward. Her hands ached, feeling a sudden heat that was not there before. It crept up her arms, through her neck until her head felt like it was on fire. Hopefully that meant it was working because _wow_ , that hurt like hell. The instructions said to wait a moment or two, for the spell to completely settle, before she opened her eyes. Doing so, Wanda exhaled in relief when it was over, although the spell left her feeling worse than she had before.

"Damn spells…" She muttered before getting into bed. She groaned when she noticed she had her shoes on still, something that Agatha would absolutely detest. The woman would have probably killed her if she knew she got into _bed_ with them on. With a quick swirl of her finger, the laces undid themselves, the boots pulled off by red energy before falling to the ground.

Today had certainly been… eventful. Horrible, but eventful.

Wanda sighed as she turned onto her side, wondering if she should even see her family anymore. It wasn't like Django hated her, she knew he didn't, but he valued family over everything else. Yes, Wanda was his family, but so was Marya. He literally had _children_ with her! Who he would choose was completely obvious. She wondered how the Professor would react if she told him she didn't want to see her uncle again. He'd be curious, and she would feel weirdly guilty, but he'd respect her wishes. Hopefully. And didn't investigate why, in the best case scenario.

Behind her, she heard the door creak open. She turned, remembering what Agatha said, but was surprised to see Ebony. Had the cat not followed his mistress? With the way he reacted, Wanda thought he would but Agatha was powerful, with or without him. She watched as the cat approached the bed and jumped onto it, moving to lay down next to her.

"Wish my life wasn't so messed up, Ebony." She said, scratching the cat between his ears. Although he couldn't talk, she was glad to have someone to vent with. Even if it was her mentor's familiar. "Wish people would tell me things so I don't have to go guessing whether they're true or not."

The cat purred as he rubbed his head against her side, almost like he was trying to comfort her. She picked him up to set him on her stomach when she noticed something dangling from his neck.

"What's this?"

It was a necklace, a circular pendant framed by what seemed to be wings with a tear-drop shaped crystal that glowed softly dangling beneath the circle. A similar clear jewel resided in the middle of the circle.

"Where did you get this?" She questioned him as if he could talk. The cat meowed like he was responding and even tilted his head down, like he was letting her take the necklace off. She saw that there was a hook that held it together and undid it, now able to examine it more. As she did so, Ebony got comfortable, closing his eyes and laying his head down, purring loudly.

Maybe he brought it for her? He had done the same thing with the paper for Agatha, so Wanda reasoned that the necklace was the same, intended as some kind of helpful gift. Maybe it was for the protection spell? She noticed that the shape of the necklace somewhat resembled the marking on the paper.

Lifting her head up, Wanda put the necklace on, hooking it together. The moment she pulled her hands away, the skin around her neck started to sting. She didn't even notice until now but her hands felt strange too, like they had fallen asleep and were waking back up. It was uncomfortable for a few moments, but the weird pain subsided. Hopefully that wasn't some kind of allergic reaction to the metal. She didn't have any allergies that she knew of but still.

"'Night, Ebony." She said, stifling a yawn and closing her eyes. For once, she didn't feel the beginning of the headaches that had plagued her lately, so she began to hope she'd get a decent amount of sleep that night.

Ebony purred softly in reply, cuddling up at her side, his warm furry weight comforting to her as she drifted off, red nonsensical patterns playing behind her closed eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the pendant Ebony gives Wanda, if anyone's interested. In the context of this story, it's an amulet of Oshtur, a protective charm of sorts.  
> https://silviapeluso.wordpress.com/2013/11/14/shamanic-love-designs/angel-wing-sterling-silver-13/


End file.
